


Thaw

by peppermint_wind



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi is a pretty boy stoner, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Kageyama has a sexuality crisis, Kuroo and Bokuto dance to Beyonce, Kuroo is helplessly in love with his best friend, M/M, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, The third years work at the campus coffee shop, Underage Drinking, it's a great time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-22 07:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3720139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermint_wind/pseuds/peppermint_wind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kageyama Tobio just wants to get through the day.  He hates winter, he hates most people, and he really hates getting up for an 8:00AM class.  That's when Hinata Shouyou, bright and obnoxious, literally comes running into his life at full-throttle and changes everything Kageyama thought he knew.</p><p>---</p><p>Basically, the College AU where Hinata and Kageyama meet by Hinata literally knocking into him and spilling hot coffee all down Kageyama's clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe that I actually finished a fic this long, but here it is! Everything is finished and written so updates will be quick and often. I'm just going through and editing the chapters before posting.
> 
> The fic is formatted so that odd numbered chapters are from Kageyama's POV, and even numbered chapters are from a different character's POV. The even numbered chapters aren't exactly necessary to the main plot, but I'd suggest reading them since they go along chronologically with the story (also if you want to read more in depth with Kuroo/Kenma's relationship!).
> 
> Hope all of you enjoy!

Spring semester is never particularly exciting.  It starts off bitter cold, dodging patches of ice on the way to class.  There’s no feeling of newness like there is in the fall, a hope that maybe this school year will go a little better.  Spring semester is the dull ache after New Years parties and binge drinking, walking bleary eyed to class while wondering when the sun will finally thaw out the ice.

Kageyama yawns into his bunched up old, green scarf, too tired to curse everyone responsible for his damn 8:00 AM class.  The only thing motivating his legs to move is the warm cup of coffee in his hands; the caffeine starting to bring life to his senses.  He closes his eyes as he takes another sip and sighs.

“Just get through this semester,” he whispers to himself.

It’s when he opens his eyes back up that he wishes the caffeine would have kicked in sooner, that his damn reflexes would hurry up and work correctly, because there is suddenly a very bright orange mop of hair barreling his way down towards him and all Kageyama can do at 7:46AM on this Monday morning is stare as fate knocks into him.

“The ice--!” Kageyama shouts at him entirely too late, already colliding with the fucking dumbass kid.  There’s hot liquid splashing down the front of his clothes, and he gapes at the bright orange piece of shit that ruined the only good thing about his day.

The guy looks absolutely terrified; stumbling out,  “I—I’m sorry” ’s and “Oh my god” ’s.  He looks down the front of Kageyama’s shirt then back up to his face.  “I was just—the ice—and then…” He gestures to Kageyama’s torso, letting out a breath.

 _Today cannot possibly be fucking worse._  His eyebrows scrunch up and glare down at him,   the smell of coffee permeating the air as it soaks into his sweater.  “Don’t you know not to run when there’s ice on the ground, dumbass.”

“I—” he starts, then stops abruptly, scowling up at Kageyama.  “I was _going_ to offer to buy you another cup of coffee, but I guess I won’t now since I’m a _dumbass_."

“You are a dumbass and I don’t even know you, why would I want to take up that offer?”  He’s getting angrier by the second. Class starts in roughly ten minutes and he now has to figure out how to stop himself from smelling like a damn coffee-pot before walking into the classroom.

“I’m Hinata Sho—”

Kageyama shoves past him.  “I do not care.”

He doesn’t stop walking until he’s reached the bathroom in Building 4.  He scrubs wildly at the spilt coffee; it’s all he can smell now.  “Fuck,” he breathes, pulling the sweater over his head.  The smell is still there, but less-so, and he rolls his sweater into a ball to try and contain it.  At the very least there isn’t a giant dark patch on the front of the t-shirt he’s wearing underneath.  It’ll have to do.

Two minutes late, he makes it to class and sits down at one of the few available desks at the back.   _Hinata_ , he thinks.   _Stupid_.  He’s never even seen the guy around campus until today.  It would be impossible to miss that mess of hair.

“Do you smell… coffee?”  He overhears a girl a couple rows up ask her friend.

Kageyama rests his forehead on the desk.  He hates today, he hates school, and he really hates the color orange.  It’s too bright and flashy, and absolutely nauseating, just like the kid who ran into him. The day was supposed to pass uneventful, as most days for Kageyama do.  He would wake up, grit his teeth through two classes, and go back to his dorm where his asshole of a roommate, Tsukishima, is (thankfully) usually absent. But because Kageyama was apparently a terrible person in a past life, he not only smells like a walking coffee-pot, but also hasn’t had his morning dose of caffeine; his liquid hope of getting through the first day of classes.

The professor begins to speak, and Kageyama finally raises his head, dozing as Mr. Takeda glosses over the syllabus for the class.  He’s going over his ‘expectations’ of the students, when suddenly interrupted by the door swinging open and an orange head poking through.

“Sorry I’m late, I got lost!”

Kageyama stares. _No way in hell._  

Mr. Takeda smiles.  “Ahh, that’s okay, it happens to a lot of people on the first day.” He hands him a syllabus.  “There’s an available seat at the back of the room.”

The kid who called himself Hinata is so damn fidgety and nervous, he doesn’t even seem to realize he’s sat next to the one person on the planet he’s pissed off today until it’s too late.

“Oh, it’s you,” he says, wide-eyed as if Kageyama would punch him right then and there.

Mr. Takeda continues on with the syllabus, and Kageyama rolls his eyes.  “Yeah.  It’s me.”

 Keeping his face forward and ignoring Hinata for the rest of class proves unexpectedly difficult.  The guy cannot sit still; he’s either continuously tapping a pencil on his desk or bobbing his leg up and down.  He even gets out his phone and starts playing some stupid game from what Kageyama can see.  The guy is really an idiot. 

Mr. Takeda thankfully dismisses them early, leaving Kageyama enough time to swing by his dorm and change before his next class.  He’s walking as fast as his long legs will carry him, when there’s suddenly a scampering of feet sounding right behind him and he really shouldn’t be this surprised to see who’s been following.

“Hey!” Hinata calls after him.

Kageyama stops despite his better judgment.  “What could you possibly want?  Haven’t you bothered me enough today?”

The guy, who Kageyama now realizes is significantly shorter as he glares down at him, looks back up with a determined expression set across his features.  “Let me treat you to coffee.”

“No.”

Hinata’s mouth hangs open.  “What?  What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Kageyama starts to walk away, but the little guy keeps up.  “I mean, no. How stupid are you?”

“Who the hell turns down free coffee?” he asks, obviously getting more frustrated by the way his face is heating up.

“Me,” Kageyama deadpans.  “Especially when clumsy idiots like you are offering.”

Sensing an absence next to him, Kageyama turns around to see Hinata’s dead stopped.

“You really are an asshole.”  He says it very matter-of-factly, without any bite.  Like Kageyama being an asshole is just as much as a fact as the sky being blue.

It still stings, but he doesn’t let it show, making his face perfectly devoid of all emotion.  “Yeah well…I’ve heard that once or twice,” he mutters, before turning away.  “Now please stop bothering me.”

He notices the skin on his bare arms has started to turn pink in the cold as he walks away from the other boy, who thankfully, is no longer following him.

 

* * *

 

When people like Tsukishima Kei exist in the world, Kageyama really doesn’t think he deserves to be called an asshole.

Tsukishima, to put it lightly, is the epitome of asshole-dom.  The only thing that makes Tsukishima a somewhat bearable roommate is his sheer lack of interest in anything regarding Kageyama; mostly keeping his headphones on during the rare times he’s actually in the room.  The problem with Tsukishima only arises the times he opens his damn mouth.

_“What the hell are you wearing?” Tsukishima looks disgusted._

_“Clothes.”_

_“You look fucking stupid.”_

_“Shut the hell up, Tsukishima.”_

***

_“Wow, you look like shit.”_

_“I don’t feel well, Tsukishima, sorry I’m not up to your standards.”_

_“You still look like complete shit.”_

***

_“How did you do on the math quiz?” Tsukishima asks with what seems like genuine interest._

_“I failed.”_

_“Wow, pathetic, Kageyama.”_

***

Kageyama scowls the second he walks into his dorm room.  “Why are you here?”

Tsukishima squints his eyes, giving him a look that says, _are you a fucking idiot?_  “Uhm.  I live here.”

“I know that, dumbass,” Kageyama says, hurriedly dumping his sweater into the hamper and rifling through some jackets on the floor that he’d never bothered putting up. “I mean, right at this moment.”

“I don’t have class until the afternoon… Why do you smell strongly of coffee?”  He wrinkles his nose.

“Because some dumbass ran into me this morning,” he snaps, pulling his Karasuno University hoodie over his head.

“Who?”

“I don’t know him.  He was some short guy with stupid orange hair that looked he hadn’t brushed it in a week.”  Kageyama was getting angry again just thinking about him.

“Hinata?” Tsukishima asks, not even looking up from whatever he’s working on at his computer.

Kageyama stares at the back of his head.  “…Yeah, I think that’s what he said his name was.  You know him?”

“He’s just friends with Yamaguchi, I don’t know him that well.”

He nods silently, frowning to himself.  How had he never seen this guy?  “Is there anything you do know about him?”

Tsukishima sighs, swiveling around abruptly in his desk chair.  “I know he’s hyperactive and has grades about as terrible as yours.  Why do you care so much, anyway?”

“I don’t, okay!” Kageyama shoots back.  “I was just curious.” He throws his backpack back around his shoulders violently.

“Jeez, you don’t have to be so defensive, I just asked a question.”

“I’m not being defensive, you’re just annoying.”

“ _You’re_ annoying.”

Kageyama rolls his eyes and slams the door on the way out.

* * *

Nothing of interest happens for the rest of the day, which is just how Kageyama likes it.  He blends in with the grey skies and cool air, trying to camouflage himself in the surroundings with his head cast down.  For fear of the day’s earlier events repeating themselves, he veers away from the coffee shop despite his energy levels being near empty.  How that kid was up and running before 8:00 AM on a Monday is beyond him.  It takes Kageyama all his energy just to roll out of bed in the morning and grab a protein bar-- and sometimes he foregoes even that.

With dark circles and a growling stomach, he rolls up into his second and last class of the day, sinking into a seat at the back like he normally does.  He throws his hood up over his head, avoiding everyones’ blatant stares, because yeah, he knows he looks like shit on the first day of class when everyone is trying to make their best impressions.  

The statistics professor is just as boring as anyone would expect, and Kageyama finds himself dozing off more than once, staring blankly at the obvious toupee atop the professor’s head.

“We’ll be starting the semester off with a group project.”

 _That_ catches Kageyama’s attention, and he lifts his head up from the desk for the first time all class.  What did he do to deserve this?  He doesn’t like groups, or even people in general really.  There’s no point in depending on others when you can just depend on yourself.  

People are disappointing; that’s just how it is and how it’s always been.  

“You’ll be in groups of three,” he says, beginning to list off the class into groups.

He ends up being paired with some guy named Kuroo, with fucking ridiculous messy black hair that looks like he’s in a punk band from circa 2007.  Kuroo hooks an arm around the other, shorter guy in the group, smiling deviously.

“So Kenma…”

“I’m not doing this entire project for you, if that’s what you’re  implying,” he says straight-faced, and the other guy’s smile droops a little.

“I wasn’t--”

“Yes you were,” Kenma cuts him off, finally looking up at him.  They stay staring for each other a moment before Kuroo blinks and pulls away.  Kageyama is pretty sure he notices the taller guy’s face turning pink, too.

“Uhm,” Kageyama starts.  “I need to go, so if we could figure out…”  It’s a lie, the only place he needs to go is his bed so he can pretend today never happened.

“Can you meet at the library this Friday?  Around noon or something?”  Kenma asks.  He’s so soft-spoken, Kageyama has to strain to hear him.  

“Yeah, sure.”  Kageyama shrugs, and says his goodbyes to the weird duo that obviously were..friends? Acquaintances? Hell if he knows.  The only thing he knows, is that a nice, long nap is taking place as soon as he’s back to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo is disgustingly in love with his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who's already made such nice comments and given kudos, I appreciate it! The next chapter will be longer and go back to Kageyama's POV!

“You shouldn’t play that while you’re walking.”

Kuroo places a hand to the small of Kenma’s back, steering him away from another patch of ice.

“I’m about to get a high score,” Kenma mumbles into the scarf that Kuroo insisted he wore because _“C’mon, you can’t go catching a cold, Kenma.”_

Kuroo sighs, running a hand through his hair.  “You’re about to break a leg is what you’re doing.”

“I have you to guide me, it’s fine.”

He stares, then lets out a big laugh.  “So this is my job as your dutiful best friend?” he jokes, pulling a piece of Kenma’s hair back from his eyes.  

It’s taken him years to realize it, but Kozume Kenma will be the end of him, Kuroo’s sure of it.  Everything from his stupid, badly-dyed hair to his gaming obsession, Kuroo had fallen grossly, stupidly head over heels in love with.  He remembers it wasn’t really a surprise when he figured it out around a year ago.  There was a party and alcohol and Kuroo had his lips locked with some guy pressed into the couch.  It was fun, and nice, as kissing often was, but then he’d thought through the vodka’s haze, _I wish you were Kenma._ And then immediately afterwards, _Of course._  

Kenma smiles just slightly at Kuroo’s touch before his face returns passive, and Kuroo’s heart pounds heavily in his chest.  “I’ll carry you back to your dorm if don’t stop playing that, I swear I will.” He grins.

“No you won’t.”  But Kenma wavers, looking unsure.

“As a kind and generous best friend, it is the only way I can make sure you’re safe.  I’m sorry to say.”  He reaches down to pull the other boy into his arms.  “Up we go.”

“Kuroo!” Kenma raises his usually soft voice, punching him in the shoulder.  He finally pauses his game as Kuroo lifts him up, bringing him to his chest until Kenma is bridal-style in his arms.  “Kuroo, this is embarrassing, stop,” he huffs.

Kuroo laughs.  “What?  You afraid people are staring?”

Kenma glares as he face turns pinker by the second.

“Okay, I’ll let you down.”  He pauses.  “But stop playing your game for a minute and come grab lunch with me, you nerd.”  

A barely audible laugh bubbles up from Kenma as Kuroo sets him down on his feet.  “Yeah, okay.”

They walk side-by-side until they reach the sandwich shop right off campus, and if Kenma notices the way Kuroo lightly bumps into his shoulder more than a few times, well, he doesn’t say anything.

Kuroo orders a roast beef sandwich because that is what Kuroo always gets, and Kenma orders some kind of vegan thing because that is what Kenma always gets. At some point they had fallen into some kind of routine, started walking towards Ukai’s Deli out of habit whenever they were both hungry.  Kenma likely goes for the grilled tofu sandwiches and free wifi, Kuroo goes mostly because he just likes being with Kenma.  Even on most Sundays, when Kuroo’s lying around and nursing a hangover, he’ll get texts saying, _im hungry. lunch?_ and he goes every damn time whether he hurled that morning or not.

Kenma really has him around his finger, and Kuroo is all too aware of it.

“Kuroo?”  Kenma waves his hand in front of his face.  “You’re spacing out.”

“Hmm?  Oh, sorry.”  Kuroo sits up straighter.  “What did you say?”

“I asked what you thought of Kageyama.”

“Who?”

“The guy in our group.”

Kuroo shrugs.  “I don’t know, I’ve seen him around, but I never see him with anyone.”  He takes another bite of sandwich, contemplating a second.  “He kind of keeps to himself like you, except he looks lot angrier all the time.”  He laughs, and Kenma nods.

They stay mostly silent for the rest of the time they’re eating.  The quiet is familiar; Kenma’s not much of a talker and Kuroo’s been used to it since they were kids.  Kuroo likes to think that for every time Kenma didn’t speak up, he spoke twice as loud.  Even not comparing himself to Kenma, Kuroo is, admittedly, obnoxiously loud; A fact that Kenma likes to remind him about on a regular basis.  His only rival in that department is the one and only Bokuto Koutarou, quite the handful, but fun at parties. Bokuto is truly one of a kind— a kid who can start and end a party in two seconds flat, and can go from smiling to crying in even less time than that.  He’s Kuroo’s other best friend, his partner in crime, his go-to friend when he’s drunk and wants to makeout.  Bokuto is everything that Kenma isn’t, and somehow he ended up being best friends with both of them.

“Hey Kenma…”

“Hmm?”

Kuroo avoids his eyes, tracing a finger in circles on the table.  “So there’s a party this Saturday and--”

“Absolutely not.”

“What?  But I haven’t even–‒”

“I’m not going,” Kenma says, determined.  He crosses his arms across his chest and huffs.  

“Please, Kenma.”  Kurroo does his best attempt at a pout, but Kenma just narrows his gold eyes and glares.  “C’mon, Hinata said he’d come.”

His eyes widen.  “He did?”  Hinata, Kenma’s roommate and close friend, is mostly the one he ends up hanging out with at the parties he’s dragged along to.  Kuroo will go off and get wasted and find someone to make-out with, and Kenma will sit with Hinata on the couch, still on their first drink, and talk about all the things he can’t talk about with Kuroo.  

“Doesn’t matter,” Kenma says, suddenly angry.  “Why do you always invite me to parties if you never even hang out with me at them?”

Kuroo pales, knowing full and well where he disappears to when the alcohol starts flowing.  “I thought you hated hanging around me when I’m wasted.”

“I do,” Kenma sighs into the palm he’s resting his head in.  “You’re even more loud and obnoxious than usual.”  He means to sound annoyed, but Kuroo doesn’t miss the slight curve of his lips.

He laughs loudly, tilting his head back.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

There’s a change in the air when Kenma pauses for a moment, looking down at his phone and avoiding Kuroo’s eyes.  “Just… talk to me anyway,” he mumbles quietly, color rising in his cheeks.

Swallowing, Kuroo nods.  “Okay,” he breathes out, then realizes what Kenma’s words mean.  His lips twist into a mischievous smile.  “So does that mean you’re going, then?”

“Shut up.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support, everyone! :)
> 
> Feel free to talk to me on tumblr (peppermintwind.tumblr.com) or twitter (@PeppermintWind) !!

“Fuck today” is the first thing Kageyama mumbles to himself upon waking up Wednesday morning, bleary-eyed and angry to the sound of his stupid alarm.  It’s still dark outside, the cold air seeping into the room making Kageyama shiver as soon as he pokes an arm out from beneath the covers.  He wrinkles his eyebrows, and whispers to himself,  “Too cold,” before dragging along all of his covers as he rolls out of bed.  With eyes half-closed, he gets ready for class with the cocoon of blankets wrapped around him like a king’s cape.

He’ll have to see Hinata again today, something he is not at all looking forward to.  Kageyama spits bubblegum toothpaste into the sink as he wonders if grabbing a cup of coffee is even worth the risk.  It’s most likely not, but the stinging cold air may be enough for him to take the risk anyway.  When he looks in the mirror, dark circles from hell stare back at him from under his eyes, and he sighs.  

_Just two more days until the weekend._

He does not, much to his instant regret, end up getting a cup of coffee.  Even with skipping breakfast, he somehow manages to be running behind, having thrown a scarf around his neck and bolted out the door when he looked at the time on his bedside table.  The long line at Karasuno Coffee might as well be his death sentence, at least fifteen kids crowded into the little hole-in-a-wall coffee shop trying to get their vanilla lattes and pumpkin mocha spice whatevers.  It is 7:52 on a Wednesday, and Kageyama’s already having a shit day.

His stomach growls as he passes Karasuno Coffee, and he crosses his fingers that Monday/Wednesday classes won’t be this terrible for the entire semester.  With that thought in mind, he looks up at the sky and tries focusing on the fact that the sun’s starting to peek through the clouds, that the ice on the sidewalk has thawed since Monday, and most importantly that there hasn’t been any sightings of the orange-haired kid come to terrorize him.  It’s only vaguely comforting, but he holds onto it like he’d hold onto morning coffee if he only had any.

The problem with trying to look on the brightside, Kageyama realizes, is that the illusion is almost always, quickly shattered.  Today is no different.  

Before he can react to the tuft of orange hair he sees in the corner of his eye, Hinata is already bounding up to his side.

“Hey!” Hinata says, much too loudly for this early in the morning.

Kageyama sinks his head down into his scarf, trying his best to ignore him, but it proves impossible.  “What do you want?”  Kageyama doesn’t even glance at him.

“I want to make up for the coffee...uhm...”  He pauses.  “What’s your name?”

“Kageyama.”  He rolls his eyes.  “  Kageyama Tobio.”  It’s only after he says it, that he wonders why he just gave Hinata this information.  Hinata doesn’t need to know his name.  He has no intention whatsoever of being his friend, or even letting him buy him coffee.  Kageyama wishes the kid would just leave him alone already.

“Kageyama,” the boy says, trying out the name on his tongue.  “Kageyama, let me buy you coffee!”

“Absolutely not.  Why the hell are you so persistent, anyway?”

“Why are you so stubborn?”  Hinata counters, rolling his eyes.  “I’m not going to spill it all over you again, I promise.”

“Is that really a promise you can keep?”  Kageyama looks down at his phone to check the time.   _Shit_.  This stupid kid is making him late.  

“I’ll race you!”

“What?”

“I’ll race you!” Hinata says again, his eyes set on Kageyama.  

“What the hell are you talking about?”  He finally turns to look down at the shorter boy with curiosity.  

“If I get to class first then I get to treat you to coffee, but if I lose then I’ll never talk to you again.”

The thought of Hinata never so much as speaking to him again is highly appealing, and Kageyama weighs the proposal over in his head for a few seconds before agreeing.  “Okay, you’re on.”  

Hinata’s grin lights up his whole face like a damn Christmas tree.  It catches Kageyama off guard, and just for a second he wishes he could smile like this stupid, annoying idiot who’s asking him to race on Wednesday morning like it’s completely natural.

“You ready?”

“Of course I’m ready,” Kageyama snaps as he bends down, readying himself to propel forward.

“Go!”

The chill in the air makes his lungs ache, but he pushes his long legs as fast as they’ll go anyway.  Hinata soon takes the lead and Kageyama grits his teeth because, _how the hell is this guy running so fast?_  and _why am I not running faster?_  Kageyama’s feet pound the pavement and his eyebrows knit together as they near their building.  His eyes stinging from the wind, his breath short, he runs head first into the building, slamming the doors open at the same time as Hinata.  They take a quick glance at each other, and Kageyama sees Hinata grinning ear to ear because the idiot thinks he’s got it in the bag. Kageyama races down the hall like he’s a fucking grade schooler running to recess, ignoring the stares from several confused students.  He takes a sharp turn where the classroom is just within reach, but that dumbass Hinata is already turning the knob and slipping inside, laughing.

“Goddammit!”  Kageyama wrenches the door open, and angrily slumps into the desk next to Hinata.

* * *

Karasuno Coffee is almost empty when they walk inside, having missed the morning rush.  Flyers litter the bulletin boards that stretch across the walls; they advertise for homework help and local bands and the coffee shop’s own open mic night they host every other week.  Kageyama has been coming here since the first day of his freshman year, and all that changes is the people behind the counter.  Today there’s two people he recognizes working, Suga and Daichi, sitting in the back and taking advantage of the slow late morning. They’re leaning in close together, talking quietly under the hum of the coffee machines.  Suga smiles when Daichi says something Kageyama doesn’t quite catch.  His eyes turn big and face dusts over pink as his smile takes over his round face, and it takes Hinata’s loud, dramatic cough to get them to notice they’ve walked in.

“Hinata!”  Suga says flustered, pulling away suddenly and jogging up the counter.  He looks from Hinata up to Kageyama then back, waiting for an explanation.  “I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”

“We don’t,” Kageyama answers at the same time Hinata says, “Yep!”  They turn to each other, Kageyama glaring.  

Suga smiles nervously.  “So what can I get you?”

Hinata rattles off his order then turns to Kageyama expectantly.

“You really don’t need to do this,” Kageyama mumbles.

“Yes I do, don’t be a jerk! Now what do you want?”

Suga bites his lips like he’s trying not to laugh.  “I take his order almost every morning, I’ll get Daichi to make the usual.”  He looks up at Kageyama to make sure that’s okay, and he nods, embarrassed as Hinata pulls out his wallet.

Daichi begins making their orders, and Hinata pays Suga for both of their coffees. Suga looks at Hinata fondly as he does so, the corner of his lip curling up like he knows something.  When he hands over the change, he raises an eyebrow silently in question.

“I spilled his coffee all over him and I’m repaying him, stop looking at me like that!”  Hinata goes into defensive mode, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Like what?”  Suga says innocently.

Daichi comes around with the coffee before Hinata can answer.  “Here you go, guys.”

Kageyama grabs his cup, wanting nothing more than to leave and drink it in peace and quiet, but Hinata is already leading the way to a table in the far corner with ugly cushioned plaid chairs and small table between them.  He rolls his eyes, but finds himself following for God knows why as Suga and Daichi go back behind the counter to their hushed conversation.  He’s never seen them so...close, always coming in the morning when it’s busy and both the boys are running around trying to get everyone’s orders.  Kageyama wonders just how close they are, glancing back at the pair and seeing Suga place a hand over Daichi’s knee.  It makes him feel hot suddenly for some reason, and he pulls off his scarf.

“Why are you blushing, Kageyama?”  Hinata bluntly points out the red creeping up his neck, smiling behind his coffee.

“I’m not, shut up, it’s just hot in here.”  Kageyama takes a sip before adding, “Dumbass.”

“You are so mean.”

“No I’m not.”

“You _literally_ are,” Hinata throws back at him, narrowing his eyes.  “You could at least say thank you, you know.”

Sighing, Kageyama looks down at his drink then back at Hinata’s annoyed face.  He guesses he has a point.  “....Thanks,”  Kageyama mutters, his eyes on the table between them.  “Even though I blatantly didn’t want to accept your offer in the first place.”

“Pfff, whatever, Kageyama, you’re happy you got your coffee so just shut up.”

Kageyama rolls his eyes, he finds himself doing that a lot whenever he’s around Hinata, grudgingly taking another drink from his cup.  His gaze drifts over to the two boys behind the counter again, and with the hum of the machines and whipping of the wind outside, he leans in a little on the table not knowing why exactly he’s about to ask, but with the question forming on his lips before he can stop.

“Are they,”  He starts quietly, “you know…?”  He pointedly looks over at Suga and Daichi.  

Hinata stares at him blankly.  

“You know, like…”  Kageyama throws his hands in the air gesturing vaguely.  

“Like….”

 _“Gay,”_ Kageyama blurts.  He face gets warms when he realizes he’s said it louder than he meant to.  He hides behind the coffee cup in his hand, thanking the heavens that Suga and Daichi seem to be too wrapped up in their own conversation to have heard what Kageyama said.

Hinata just laughs;  A high pitched, annoying laugh right in Kageyama’s face.  “Yeah, duh stupid, they’ve been dating since like I was born or something.”

“Hinata, they’re probably on a couple years older than us, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Shut up.”  He looks back at the two, Daichi blushing up to his ears at something Suga said and Suga laughing quietly.  “Anyway, they’ll probably get married, they’re already like boring old dads,”  Hinata says nonchalantly, turning back to Kageyama.

He shifts in his seat, avoiding Hinata’s eyes in favor of staring out the window beside them.  It shouldn’t make him uncomfortable, but it does, and all the sudden it’s like there’s bugs crawling up his skin and he just wants to get out of this cramped, stuffy coffee shop that he feels like he’s suffocating in.

“Does it bother you?” Hinata asks seriously, holding his breath.  

“What?”  Kageyama breaks his staring contest with the window.  “No!  Of course not, idiot.  Why would I care?  People can do whatever they want, what do I have to do with it?  It’s not like it involves me. I don’t care.  I mean,” Kageyama’s breath starts to quicken, and he really needs to get out of here before he make a complete idiot of himself, “you know, I’m straight, but what other people do is none of my business so--”

“Kageyama, you look like you’re about to pass out,” Hinata interrupts.  

“I’m not-- I don’t--”  he huffs, tension in the air.  Kageyama runs a hand through his hair violently, waiting for the passive coolness that people so often associate him with to return.  He closes his eyes, takes a drink from his cup, and lets out a big breath.  “I need to go,” he says quietly, slowly sliding back his chair.  “Thanks for the coffee.”

“What?  Wait--”  Hinata’s brow furrows as Kageyama stands up.  “Kageyama--”

“I’ll see you around,”  Kageyama assures, digging his hands into his pockets as he begins to walk away.  He feels out of focus, like a distorted camera lens, the only thing on his mind is getting away and getting out, needing to feel the cold on his face and through his hair.  There’s no rationalizing _why_ he suddenly needs to leave, so he chooses to ignore it for the time being just like he ignores Hinata when he’s calling after him a second time.

Kageyama pushes out into the cold without a thought or care, relief spreading through him as the wind turns his face raw.

It’s starting to get cloudy again.

* * *

He doesn’t sleep well that night.  1:00 AM is waking up from cloudy dreams, rolling over, shifting positions two or three times, and trying fitfully to fall back asleep.  3:32 AM is opening his eyes to an exhausted body and mind weighing him down into the sheets.  He sloppily wipes the drool from his chin, only vaguely remembers the content of his rapid-paced dreams like a flipbook.  There were hands, hands in his hair, up his side, an arm thrown around his shoulder, and before he can remember the extent of it, he plunges back into darkness for another couple of restless hours.

By five in the morning, Kageyama has absolutely _had_ it.  He rubs at his red eyes, traces the shadows beneath them, and feels where exhaustion has dug into his skin.  Rolling over, he checks his phone, checks Facebook, checks the weather, almost finally giving up on having a decent night’s sleep. He sighs into his pillow, tries closing his eyes once again.  After a moment, he remembers that at least the coffee shop will be open in a couple of hours and then he can fake his way through the day with a large dose of caffeine.  

_Oh. Wait. Shit._

Kageyama drags a hand over his face. _Fuck. Shit._  The dreams from that night slowly begin to click in his brain, taking shape the longer he dwells on it.  The hands in his hair, the fingers that danced across his stomach, the knuckles brushing against his cheekbones; they all belonged to another guy and Kageyama suddenly wants to vomit.  It wasn’t even a _particular_ guy, there was never a face shown or really much of anything other than hands and arms.  If he tried hard enough he could convince himself that the palm on his shoulder was a girl’s, that her thumb was the one that stroked his collarbone, but he _knows_ , he just _knows_ that’s not true, and he jumps out of bed fast enough to make the light sparkle in his eyes like he’s about to pass out.

He doesn’t care that it’s three hours too early to be getting up for class or that his body is erupting in goosebumps, because the first thing he’s heading to is the shower and turning the knob until the water scalds his skin red.  It’s hard to breathe through the steam, but his thoughts slow as the water pounds his head.  It makes sense, he thinks.  The hands, the very male hands, tracing up his body; it’s only because of his conversation with Hinata, his suspicions about Suga and Daichi, worming it’s way into his subconscious.  It doesn’t mean anything.  He’s never had a crush on a guy, and the thought of dating another boy hasn’t even crossed his mind in his twenty years of living.  He’s still okay, he’s still safe. It’s nothing.  It’s normal. His eyes squeeze shut as he convinces himself of this, somewhere between mumbling to himself and mumbling to god.  

Suga’s smile creeps back into his thoughts, the way it spread across his face as he leaned in closer to Daichi, placing a hand on his knee, and nausea finds its way back to Kageyama faster than he jumped out of bed that morning.  

Maybe he’s being homophobic.  

Maybe there’s still prejudice hiding in the dark corners of his body, something he hasn’t noticed until it feel like he’s going to throw it up all over the shower tile.  It would explain his discomfort, the gnawing at his stomach lining, acid building in his throat, the race of his heart.  Maybe he’s just  homophobic, because he knows he definitely isn’t _gay._  It’s just something he has to work on, remind himself that it’s okay for other people to be whatever way they want to be.

His breathing calms, his heart starts to beat at a regular pace.

_I’m still okay._

He wobbles out of the shower, throwing a towel around his waist.  His eyes avoid the mirror because he already knows how terrible he must look.  

There’s a knock at the door.

“Kageyama?” Tsukishima yawns.  “What the fuck are you doing, I need to get ready.”

Kageyama stills.  He had forgotten Tsukishima has a morning class today.  “I’ll be out in a second,” he huffs, throwing his pajamas back on when he realizes he didn’t bring any other clothes in with him.  

He brushes past Tsukishima on the way out of the bathroom door, wondering if he can fit in at least another hour of sleep before he has to get up again.  Tsukishima glances back and gives him a look that Kageyama is really too tired to figure out what it means.

“Are you sick?”.

“No, dumbass,” Kageyama answers, and slides himself back beneath the heap of blankets.

“Well you look fucking terrible.”

Tsukishima disappears into the bathroom and Kageyama buries his face into his pillow.

* * *

From what Kageyama can tell, Kuroo and Kenma are just about as different as two people can be.

They’re all at the library for their statistics project, seated around a circular table and crowding around Kenma’s math textbook since he’s the only one that bothered buying one.  Kageyama studies the two bantering back and forth, and feels like he’s invisible.

“Why didn’t you buy your own textbook?” Kenma sighs, trying to shrug off Kuroo who has his chin resting on Kenma’s shoulder.

Kuroo groans and sits back with his arms crossing over his chest.  “When have I ever bought a textbook?”

“Never, that’s why your grades are so terrible.”

“My grades aren’t _that_ bad.”

Kenma rolls his eyes, and continues working on a problem from the textbook.  “Kageyama, what answer did you get for this?”  He finally turns towards him for the first time the whole meeting.

“I…” Kageyama starts, looking down at the mess of jumbled numbers on his notebook paper.  “I’m not very good at math,” he admits, scrunching his face as he does so.  

“Me either, man!” Kuroo says, much too loudly for being in a library and leans over to Kageyama with his hand in the air.

Kageyama hesitates for a moment before he realizes Kuroo is trying to give him a high-five, then slaps his hand awkwardly against his.  

Kenma rubs at his temples.

The numbers on his page are unorganized, half-erased, and all running into each other, making Kageyama start to feel the beginnings of a headache when he looks back down at the indecipherable piece of notebook paper.  He rests his cheek down on the table because despite getting more sleep last night than Wednesday, he’s still fucking exhausted.  His eyelids are tired of holding themselves up and to satisfy them he lets them down if only for a moment.  Avoiding the coffee shop hasn’t helped his state of exhaustion, either.  He’s used to a cup or two of coffee every day, and taking that away has had him more grumpy and tired than usual.  

But the thought of going inside and seeing Suga and Daichi together behind the counter has him reeling, and although he knows it’s irrational, he can’t help but walk quickly past the coffee shop every time it comes into view.

“Hey kid, you okay?”  Kuroo asks, prodding his shoulder.

“Huh?”  Kageyama slowly opens his eyes back up to the bright light of the library. “Oh,” he says, sitting back up. “Yeah, I’m just tired.”

There’s a second that Kenma glances over at him looking concerned, but his eyes go back to his textbook just as fast, and he doesn’t say anything.  Kageyama takes a slow breath before glaring down at the textbook, picking out another assigned problem.  He’s about to write it down when he hears footsteps walking towards them, and he glances up only to huff angrily at the sight.

“Hey Kenma, I—”  Hinata pauses, finally noticing Kageyama.  

 _“What are you doing here?”_  They practically yell at each other.

Hinata is the first to respond.  “Kenma’s my roommate, I was just saying hi.”

He looks from Kenma to Hinata, glaring at the latter.  “Well we’re doing a project so…” He trails off, hoping Hinata will get the point and disappear.  

Kenma blinks as if finally understanding something, and he slowly turns to Hinata.  “Oh, is he the guy you spilled coffee all over?”  He tilts his head when he asks.

“Ah, well,” Hinata laughs nervously, scratching the side of his face which is turning redder by the second.

“Unfortunately,” Kageyama deadpans, still staring at Hinata.

“I bought you another one!” Hinata squeals, defiant.  “Why do you look like you’re about to eat me?”  

He doesn’t respond, just rolls his eyes into what is possibly the next dimension.  

“And you’re the one that ran out on me, I’m the one that’s suppose to be angry!”

Kenma and Kuroo’s eyes go back and forth between the two boys like they’re watching a tennis match;  Kuroo with an amused smirk on his face.

He tears his gaze away from Hinata then, refusing to meet his eyes when he tells him to shut the hell up.  

“Why did you leave anyway?” Hinata narrows his eyes at him, demanding an answer.

“I just didn’t feel well, ok?”  Kageyama lies through his teeth.  “Stop looking at me like that, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Hinata sighs, and looks down at him skeptically.  “Whatever.”  

The silence that follows is awkward, but reminds Kageyama that they’re still in a fucking _library_ and everyone in there probably hates them now.  He’s surprised they haven’t been chewed out yet by angry librarians.  

“Are--”  Hinata starts, faltering, then lowers his voice like he’s come to the same realization as Kageyama.  “Are you at least feeling better now, idiot?”

Kageyama stares at him for a second before replying, because _why the hell does this guy even care?_  He ignores the feeling of his heart thudding uncomfortably in his chest.  “I was until you showed up again.”

It was suppose to sound mean, but there’s a slight smile on Hinata’s face as he rolls his eyes and says, “So rude, Kageyama.”  

He bounds over to behind Kageyama’s chair and looks over his shoulder, pointing to one of the less-smudged areas of his paper.  “This one looks wrong.”

The urge to punch Hinata in the face overwhelms him, but then Kuroo is laughing loudly and they’re both turning away from each other to look up at him.  

“Yeah right, Hinata, you failed statistics last semester,”  

Kageyama takes joy in watching Hinata’s face heat up, splotchy patches of red spreading across his neck and ears.  

“Shut up, Kuroo!”

A tall woman is suddenly behind Hinata and tapping him softly on the shoulder.  Hinata’s eyes widen and he slowly turns around in horror.

“If you can’t be quiet, you need to leave,” she says, eyeing the whole group, but mainly Hinata.  Kageyama then notices the shiny librarian name tag pinned neatly to her cardigan, and has to stop himself from laughing.

Hinata nods silently, his lips pressed tightly together and eyebrows up to his forehead, as she saunters away and disappears between bookshelves.

Unable to contain it anymore, a small laugh finally bubbles up from Kageyama’s throat, and Hinata hits him playfully across the head. _“Ow,”_ Kageyama hisses.

“Stop laughing at me, you have a demon laugh,” he whispers.  

Before Kageyama can respond, Kenma speaks up.  “Shouyou, we only have a couple of more things to do, I’ll meet you in the dorm soon, okay?”

"Okay,” Hinata says, resigned.  “I’m leaving before anyone else yells at me.”  He waves back to the group as he walks away.  “Bye, you guys! Bye Bakageyama!”  Another librarian shoots him a sharp glare, and he runs off with a smile on his face.

“What did he just call me?” Kageyama finally asks after Hinata’s exited the room.

“Pretty sure he called you ‘Bakageyama’,”  Kuroo supplies, not bothering to hold in a laugh.

“I’ll kill him.”

Kuroo laughs harder, folding himself over the table, and propping his face up his hand.  “Hey Kageyama,” he says, once he stops laughing.  “Why don’t you come to my party this Saturday?”

“Huh?”  He’s never been invited to a party in all of his college life, and it catches him off guard.  He’s followed Tsukishima to a couple of parties before when he had nothing better to do than get drunk off his ass, but those had always been Tsukishima’s friends.

“This Saturday, at my apartment, booze will be provided.” Kuroo winks.  “Even Kenma’s going.”

“Uh.”  He glances over at Kenma who just shrugs. There’s a side of him that wants to decline, say he’s busy when he was really just planning to catch up on sleep Saturday.  The social aspect of parties isn’t exactly his favorite thing, and he usually opts to drink alone in a corner while Tsukishima goes off somewhere with Yamaguchi; this resulting in him waking up the next morning with a terrible hangover that he immediately regrets because the party is never good enough for the hangover to be worth it.  But this time he knows (well, kind of knows) people that will be there, and after the hellish first week back to school he’s had, God knows he deserves to be drunk.   _Fuck it,_ he thinks.  “Okay, yeah, where’s your apartment?”

Kuroo grins likes the Cheshire Cat.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the sweet comments and kudos! I'm glad you guys are enjoying it!! 
> 
> It's a short chapter today, but next up is the big party scene, fun!

Everything feels warm like he’s been lit up from the inside, and his skin sweats as he desperately tries to remove layer after layer— first the hat, the jacket, the flannel, and then he can finally breathe again in the stuffy little building, inhaling the smell of pumpkin spice lattes and peppermint mochas, smiling brightly at the sight of Daichi and Suga talking quietly behind the counter.  

“Hey, Hinata,” Suga smiles warmly, finishing up an order for a customer.  “What’s up?  Where’s your new friend?”

Hinata tugs at his collar,  “Ahh, I’m not sure I’d call him a friend, really.”  Hinata slumps himself on the counter, running a hand through his wind-blown hair.

The fact is that Hinata isn’t really sure what to make of Kageyama Tobio. He’s tall and scary, and has a terrible personality.  His eyes always look tired and there’s a permanent scowl across his face.  It’s impossible to reason why Hinata keeps running up behind him, pushing his buttons until Kageyama snaps out of his brooding behavior to shove Hinata off the sidewalk.  Kageyama is like this looming wall that Hinata wants to keep poking at until he gets a reaction out of his stony face, even if his rare smile is terrifying.  He’s kind of like a challenge; A challenge that Hinata fully intends on winning... whatever winning means.

There’s a suddenly warm hand rubbing soothingly on his shoulder.  “Is something wrong, Hinata?” Suga asks like a very concerned mother.

“Huh?” Hinata looks up from where his head is resting on the counter between them.  “No, I’m fine!” He promises, straightening up and smiling to prove the point. “Kageyama was just...acting kind of weird.”

“Yeah, well he’s always been kind of weird,” Daichi cuts in.  “I think you’re the first person he’s been in here with.”

Hinata’s eyebrows shoot up and his head quirks to the side.  “No way, really?”  

Even with just knowing him less than a week, Hinata can tell Kageyama isn’t exactly the most sociable person, but he’s definitely not unfortunate looking.  Beforehand, he really wouldn’t have been surprised if Kageyama came there with his girlfriend, or at least accompanied girls who were interested, but now...

“Yeah, he’s always alone and has that angry look on his face.”  Daichi finishes wiping down the counter, then adds, “Probably so angry because he’s alone, actually.”

Suga looks down at Hinata, a grin barely forming on his face.  “What Daichi is trying to say, is that Kageyama seems to be single.”

 _Unbelievable._  Hinata rolls his eyes and huffs loudly.  “Will you please stop trying to set me up with people?”  He can feel his face burning as he remembers the last and only time he and Kageyama were in the coffee shop.  “I don’t think he swings that way anyway,” he mumbles, and then adds louder, “Not that it would matter because he’s a jerk!”  Hinata waves his arms around trying to get across some kind of point.  “We’re not even friends!”

Daichi laughs and Suga raises his hands in surrender.  “Sorry sorry, I’m just teasing you,” Suga says calmly, giving Hinata a soft smile.  

“Didn’t you say before that the last person you dated was when you were like ten years old?” Daichi asks, still laughing.

“So?”  Hinata glares up at him.  “Just because you two have been dating since dinosaurs roamed the earth doesn’t mean everyone else has, god.”  He rubs at his temples, desperately wishing the conversation would change already.  He already knows it’s pathetic, he doesn’t need Daichi to rub it in.  

It’s not like people haven’t been _interested_ though; he remembers a girl from his second year of high school who shyly looked down at her shoes when she asked him out after class. But then, for some reason he wasn’t quite sure of then, he had said no.  She was cute, she was really cute, but he didn’t want to kiss her or even hold her hand, and for a long time he would wonder just what the hell was wrong with him, looking up at his ceiling at night and asking when he would interested in girls like the other guys in his class.  It took another year and several subscriptions to male sports magazines for him to figure it out.

But now here he is in college, gay and scared, and still too nervous to actually pursue anyone. His friends each have eyes on their own person, and Hinata sits lost in the middle of it, wondering when his turn will be.  It’s frustrating, and honestly kind of depressing, listening to Kenma mumble on and on about Kuroo, watching Kuroo practically throw himself at Kenma’s feet; or noticing the soft and sweet way Daichi and Suga exist around each other, and catching glimpses through doorways of Kuroo’s friends making out during parties.  He hates it; hates sitting still as everyone revolves around him in their own relationships or crushes, and Daichi will never understand that.

“Hey,” Dachi says, lightly punching him in the shoulder.  “I’m kidding.  I think you’ll find find someone sooner than you think.”  He winks and smiles, twisting his fingers around Suga’s on the counter.”

Hinata rolls his eyes, but smiles back. “Yeah, easy for you to say.”  He nods towards Suga and Daichi’s hands.

There’s a lull in the conversation and Hinata takes the time to throw his jacket back on and pull his knit hat over his ears.  “...Hey, by the way,” Hinata starts, looking up at the pair, “are you guys going to Kuroo’s party tomorrow?”

“Absolutely not,” Daichi answers firmly, a disgusted look on his face and spaced out look in his eyes.  “Never again.”

Suga laughs, gripping Daichi’s hand tighter.  “Yeah, sorry Hinata.  I think we’re going to stay in and watch this new documentary on Netflix that—”

“Say no more.” Hinata puts up his hands.  “You guys are so old and married, it kind of grosses me out sometimes.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.”  Daichi tries playing casual, but there’s a blush creeping up his neck.  “But have fun for us, ok?”  He pauses, then adds as an afterthought, “And don’t drink too much.  I know what happened last time.”

Hinata groans, throwing his hands over his face in memory of the tragic hangover from Kuroo’s last party.  “So much tequila… thanks for reminding me.”  He looks down, finishing buttoning up his sweater.  

“Take care of yourself,” Suga says, warmly.  He slips behind the counter and comes back a second later with one of the chocolate-chip cookies displayed behind the glass.  Suga puts a finger to his lips as he passes it to Hinata, “Shhh.”

His face lights up, eyes crinkling and smiling wide as he takes the cookie.  “Thanks, Suga.”

He winks.  “Who knows, maybe the guy of your dreams will finally be at that party tomorrow.”

Hinata takes a bite out of the cookie and glares half-heartedly.  “I doubt it.”  But as he turns on his heels and walks towards the door, he adds wistfully, “But one can only hope, right?”

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your nice comments make me so glad I kept on with this fic and finished it. :') Thank you guys.
> 
> I had so much fun writing this chapter, so I hope all of you like it! There's copious amounts of alcohol, marijuana references, and someone throwing up in this chapter, just to warn everyone. As always, feel free to come talk to me on tumblr (peppermintwind.tumblr.com) or twitter (@PeppermintWind)!

_“You’re what?”_

“Going to Kuroo’s party tonight,” Tsukishima repeats, shrugging on a black jacket.  “Why the fuck do you care?”

“Because _I’m_ going to Kuroo’s party tonight!”

“How the hell did you get invited?”

“We have a class together, how’d _you_ get invited?”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes cooly, and pulls on his gloves.  “Well I sucked his dick once.”

Kageyama pauses in the middle of slipping on his shoes and gapes.

“I’m kidding.”  He punches him in the arm as he passes.  “Christ, the look on your face right now.”

“Shut up.”

“Are you coming or not, loser?”

Cool air blows in from the open doorway, and as much as Kageyama would love to plant his fist into Tsukishima’s face, he refrains, wraps his scarf around his neck, and follows Tsukishima out the door.

As soon as their inside Kuroo’s apartment, they split apart.  Tsukishima floats across the room to Yamaguchi who’s quietly sitting on the couch with red plastic cup in hand and looking nervous.  He says something to the freckled boy, then makes his way to the crowded kitchen to pour himself a drink— Kuroo wasn’t kidding when he said booze would be provided.  Kageyama catches glimpses through all of the crowded bodies at the display on the counter.  A giant plastic bottle of smirnoff vodka sits in the middle of it all, silently calling to Kageyama.

An arm snakes around his shoulder as he’s about to walk to the kitchen, and he jumps before realizing Kuroo is the one invading his space, mouth close to his ear.

“Glad you could make it,” he says, slipping a drink into Kageyama’s hand.  His eyes shift between him and the front door.  “Kenma’s running late, but he should be here soon.”

“Uh, right.”  Kageyama shifts under Kuroo’s arm, but accepts the drink and takes a sip of what is presumably vodka and orange juice and something else he can’t quite figure out.  He scans his eyes around the apartment for anyone that even looks vaguely familiar.  There’s Yamaguchi, but Tsukishima’s joined him now with his own drink in hand, and there’s a guy who he’s pretty sure is named Oikawa tipsily strolling around the party with a wine glass held at the top with his fingertips.  He wouldn’t know him if it weren’t for the girls he always sees following him around on campus; apparently he’s some kind of Acting God of the Drama Department, but Kageyama’s never bothered to go see him. He looks like he’s full of himself anyway.  

The other people drinking and chatting around the apartment are completely new.  Two girls he’s never seen, who seem much more interested in each other than anyone else at the party, lean against the far wall and talk closely together, the shorter one blushing up to her ears when the other girl puts a hand on her shoulder.  More girls take up the kitchen, most of them wearing Karasuno Volleyball jackets, and Kageyama tries to glance them over subtly to see if anyone stands out.  No one does.  No one ever does.  He annoys himself with how disinterested he is, wishes some girl would finally show up that would sweep him off his feet or whatever it is that girls do.  He sighs and looks over at who’s pouring drinks— a tan, muscular guy with messy brown hair who keeps glancing worriedly over at Oikawa, an obnoxiously tall boy with light hair and eyes almost knocking everything over with his long limbs, and one more guy with fucking wild silver and black hair who now heads towards him and Kuroo.

“Hey hey!  Who are you?  Kuroo didn’t tell me about you?”  The guy grins with his whole face, eyes darting from him to Kuroo.

“I’m—”

“This is Kageyama Tobio,” Kuroo introduces, finally taking his arm off from around his shoulder.  “Kageyama, this is Bokuto, my roommate.”  

Bokuto takes a large gulp of his drink, then smirks.  “Are you guys—?”

“No,” Kuroo says before Bokuto can finish, huffing a laugh and patting Kageyama on the shoulder.  “Just a friend.”

Kageyama looks from one to the other, his eyebrows drawn together, as Bokuto’s smirk widens.

“So…”

Kuroo laughs harder.  “Go for it,”  he says, and rolls his eyes.  “I thought Akaashi was coming tonight, though?”

“I don’t know, he said maybe.” Bokuto shrugs, frowning at the floor.  He gulps down more of his drink without flinching, and drags his eyes up Kageyama’s tall frame.

He feels like he’s missing something, staring back into Bokuto’s wide owl eyes.  The longer he looks, the more Kageyama can feel his face heat up, and just as quickly as Bokuto fell into a frown, he’s perking back up with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  Bokuto draws in closer, and Kuroo backs away with a look on his face like he’s holding in a laugh.

“Alright, well you two have fun.”

He pats Bokuto on the back and then disappears, leaving Kageyama to face something which he really, _really_ does not know how to handle.  Bokuto is all easy smiles and pick-up lines, complimenting Kageyama’s eyes in the same breath he not so subtly asks if he’s single.  Kageyama stutters, confused and unsure of everything around him, and he hasn’t even had half a drink yet.

“Let me see your hand,” Bokuto says, setting his drink down to reach for Kageyama’s fingers and pull out a pen from his pocket.  Kageyama is too stunned to do anything, just lets his hand be taken away by this boy he’s just met, watching as Bokuto scribbles something into his palm.  He clicks the pen and smiles when he finishes, letting go of Kageyama’s hand and grabbing for his drink that’s already almost empty.  He finishes it in one swallow.  “There, now you have my number.”  He winks.

Kageyama looks down at his palm, and sure enough there’s digits scrawled messily over his skin; it makes everything inside him squirm, his heart racing like it’s trying to work its way out of his chest.  He sweats as he looks the guy up and down, not unattractive, but still a _guy._  The attention isn’t entirely new, there were multiple girls who had confessed to him in high school, but he had always shrugged them off, not even giving it a second moment’s thought.  This really shouldn’t be any different, but it is, and he hates it.  He hates the way his feet are rooted to the spot and the ability to form words is completely lost to him.  He hates how uncomfortable he feels under Bokuto’s hopeful gaze.

“Uhm— I—I’m not—”  Kageyama rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, trying to cool down.  “I’m not— You know—”  

A guy he doesn’t recognize appears behind Bokuto, all dark hair and heavy-lidded eyes.  He casually glances over Kageyama before wrapping his hand around Bokuto’s arm.  “Bokuto-san, please stop terrorizing him.”

“Akaashi?” Bokuto say unbelievingly, turning on the spot with his eyes widening.  “Hey, you came.”  

“Yeah, I did.”

The smile on Bokuto’s face is small, different from the ones he had given Kageyama; it loses all of its boldness and cockiness, whittles itself down to a shy curve of lips, genuine and happy like he’s looking at something beautiful.  “Hi,” he says softly.

“Hi, Bokuto-san.”  Akaashi presses his lips together then looks away, unwrapping his fingers from Bokuto’s arm.  He looks back up at Kageyama.  “I’m very sorry for him, he can be kind of stupid sometimes.”

“Hey!” Bokuto lightly pushes him away, but laughs, loud and big.  “You know, you kind of reek, man.”

“I’m really stoned,” Akaashi says matter-of-factly, and Bokuto just laughs even louder.  

“Akaashi…”  Some confidence seems to have returned to Bokuto, his hands fitting themselves on either side of Akaashi’s face.  “As your best friend, I am absolutely furious that you smoked so much without me.”

Akaashi smiles slightly.

“You fucking stoner,” Bokuto laughs fondly, letting go of his face and pressing a hand into his back.  “Come get a drink with me, ok?”

Akaashi lets himself be lead by Bokuto, and Kageyama sighs, relieved for the interruption.  He downs half of his drink in one go, entirely too sober, and almost gags at the amount of vodka Kuroo seems to have poured into his drink.  He looks around the room, finding Kuroo who is brooding up against a wall, drink steadily pouring into his mouth.  It’s just before he looks away that Kageyama notices his whole face light up, and he turns to where Kuroo’s gaze leads to the open front door.  Kenma walks in, face red from the cold, and only a of couple seconds pass before Kuroo is springing up from his slump and meeting Kenma across the room, stupid grin spread over his face.  He watches Kuroo say something to him, watches him tug nervously at the bracelets around his wrist; it reminds Kageyama of a girl who had asked him out last year.  

Distracted, Kageyama doesn’t notice the boy who had trailed in behind Kenma until he’s suddenly in front of him, looking up with big brown eyes.

“Why are you everywhere I go?”  Hinata asks, accusingly.  

Kageyama can’t believe his luck, or well, lack of it.  “Why are you everywhere _I_ go?”

“Answer me first!”

“What? I—”  Kageyama scowls and finishes his drink.  “You are so annoying.”

“I am not!” Hinata protests.  “And stop making such a scary face, one day your eyebrows are going to get stuck like that, you know.”

“My face isn’t scary, shut up.”

“Yeah it is, that’s why no one is hanging out with you.”

Kageyama glares, and Hinata seems to realize he’s hit a nerve because then he’s backtracking.  “Do you even know anyone here, Kageyama?”

“Of course I do.”  Kageyama rolls his eyes and walks towards the kitchen to refill his drink. Hinata, unsurprisingly, follows behind him.  “I know Kuroo and Kenma from class.  Tsukishima’s my asshole roommate.”  He pauses, pouring the now half-empty bottle of vodka into his cup. He knows there’s a little too much, but he thinks, _fuck it_ , and grabs for the nearest chaser which happens to be coke.  “And I know you.  Unfortunately.”  

“Yeah, well three of those people you just met this week so…”  Hinata grabs for the Malibu on the counter and begins to mix his own drink, ignoring Kageyama’s threatening stare.

“Oh, and I know that guy now,” Kageyama says quietly, nodding his head towards Bokuto across the room, color rising in his cheeks.  

Hinata glances back at Bokuto then to Kageyama and laughs.  “Did he give you his number?”

He raises his hand palm up in affirmation.  

“Yeah, he does that a lot, don’t worry,” Hinata laughs, “Bokuto’s really only serious about Akaashi, but he won’t admit it.”  

They look back into the living room at the same time, watching what seems to be Bokuto trying to convince Akaashi to dance with him to Beyonce’s _Drunk in Love_.  Kuroo laughs behind them, turning up the volume on the speakers.

The uncomfortable feeling starts to work its way back up his throat, and Kageyama gulps down the vodka and coke in effort to drown it.  

“Uhm...I know you said you’re straight,” Hinata starts.  He looks down at the kitchen counter and takes a sip of his drink before continuing.  “...So...Why are you here?”

“What?  What do you mean?”

“Well…”  Hinata turns and looks at everyone around the apartment.  “I think you’re one of the only straight people here.”

“Huh?”

“I thought you… must have realized.”

“What are you talking about?  That’s not possible.”

“Uh, Kageyama, you are literally in a room filled with most of Karasuno University’s GSA members.  Thats how a lot of us know each other.”

“You’re kidding?”  Kageyama’s eyes widen as he glances from person to person, suddenly feeling vulnerable and awkward in the midst of everything.  He wonders why this had to happen _now_ , just days after the dream he had been trying so desperately to forget, just days after fumbling out of a coffee shop for reasons he still isn’t entirely sure.  When Kuroo had invited him, he just wanted to go to a normal party and get wasted, maybe even kiss a girl for the first time so he could finally figure out what all of the fuss was about.  He wanted to get away, to escape from everything nagging at the corners of his mind, but Kageyama has never been that lucky and why should his luck start now?

“Uhm, no.”  Hinata’s face pales and falls silent, worrying at his bottom lip as Kageyama stares at him disbelievingly.  “I understand if you want to leave…”

“Wait, Tsukishima’s gay?” Kageyama blurts.

“Kageyama, he’s your roommate!”  

“We don’t really talk much.”  He crosses his arms over his chest, defensive.

“He’s only been dating Yamaguchi for like the last six months, how stupid are you?”

_“What?”_

“Yeah!”

They fall into silence again, sipping at their own drinks.  Kageyama is starting to feel the first one like pins and needles up his legs, his teeth feel numb in his mouth.  “So you’re gay, too?” He asks it before he can stop himself.

“Yeah,” Hinata says quieter than before.  Then, “You got a problem with that, Bakageyama?”

Kageyama struggles not to roll his eyes, and just shrugs.  “I guess not, just don’t try anything on me.”

Hinata huffs, angrily.  “Fine, why would I anyway when your face is so ugly?”

“Dumbass.”

“Jerk.”

They stare each other down, Hinata grabbing his cup and draining his drink in one go without looking away.  “I bet I could out drink you.”

“No way.”  Kageyama sounds more confident than he feels, only halfway into his second drink and already feeling light on his feet, face tingling and tongue fuzzy.

Hinata grabs for the assorted shot glasses littering the counter; some tall, some short, some rainbow striped, some with words on them saying things like “WASTED” and “YOLO”.  Kageyama already knows this is a bad idea before it starts, but like hell he’s going to back down.  He’s handed the YOLO glass, a smirk on Hinata’s face as he sloppily pours tequila into it and then into his own.  

“Wait...”  Kageyama’s speech starts to slow.  “This isn’t fair, you’ve only had one drink.”

“Okay, fine,” Hinata sighs after a moment.  “I’ll take one and then we’ll start.  Deal?”

“You’re on.”  

He watches Hinata throw back a shot, face scrunching up as he swallows it down, eyes closed and tongue sticking out when he finishes.  It would be kind of cute if he were literally anyone else.   _If he were a girl,_ Kageyama amends in his head.  Hinata guzzles down coke right from the bottle until the taste is gone, then slams it down on the table.  He refills his shot glass.  “Ok, now together.”

Kageyama picks up the shot glass unsurely in his fingers, wondering just how much he’s going to hate himself in the morning, when there’s a loud applause from the living room, several people wolf whistling over the music.  He looks behind Hinata, curious as to what the hell could possibly be happening, and is met with a sight he could have lived his entire life without seeing.  

Bokuto has Kuroo tugged tight against his hips, ass unashamedly grinding into Kuroo’s crotch as they both sing along to _Partition_. Kuroo’s hands travel up Bokuto’s hips to his waist, and he laughs into this neck as everyone else cheers around them.  The only people seemingly not amused are Tsukishima, who’s rolling his eyes, and Kenma, who won’t even look up from his Gameboy.  Akaashi looks indifferent, but he walks away from the crowd in the living room towards the alcohol in the kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest.  He sighs, glances up at Hinata and Kageyama, and mumbles, “murder me,” before taking the shot glass right out of Kageyama’s hand and drinking the tequila down smoothly.

“I’m so stupid,” Akaashi says under his breath to no one in particular, reaching for the bottle to pour another shot.

Hinata presses his lips together, looking at the other boy warily, then back at Kageyama.

“You really weren’t kidding.”  Kageyama blankly stares at the display in the living room where Bokuto has now turned towards Kuroo and wrapped his arms playfully around his neck.  “Everyone is really…”

“Yep,” Hinata laughs nervously.

“Huh.”  With his shot glass gone, Kageyama goes back to the coke and vodka he had abandoned earlier, drinking away the contents, his mind turning more sluggish by the minute.  He can’t seem to look away, and blames the alcohol entirely, yet doesn’t stop himself from drinking.  He watches until the end of their “performance,” everyone clapping as Bokuto and Kuroo take a bow.  

“Let’s play a game!” Kuroo suddenly shouts excitedly as the music fades into the next song on the playlist.  “Everyone come on, gather ‘round, we’re gonna have some fun.”  He looks over into the kitchen.  “Even you guys, come on, Hinata bring that bottle of tequila and the shot glasses.”

Hinata complies, stacking the shot glasses into each other in one hand, and carrying the bottle of tequila in the other.  “I’m going to be so hungover tomorrow,” Hinata whines to himself miserably.  “Kageyama, will you grab those last two shot glasses?”

And because Kageyama isn’t really sure what else to do, or if he even has a choice in the matter with Kuroo waving them into the living room expectantly, he takes the two shot glasses and follows behind Hinata with a feeling of impending doom.  

There’s something in the air that says so far has only been the quiet before the storm. Everyone looks up at the bottle of tequila, grinning and practically salivating, when Hinata walks into the room, placing it and the shot glasses down on the coffee table for everyone to share.  Most people are sprawled around on the floor in various positions, and Kageyama looks for a place to sit anxiously before just following Hinata and squeezing himself onto the couch.  It’s uncomfortably warm, squished together between Hinata and Yamaguchi, and he can feel Tsukishima’s stare at the side of his head that he goes to all lengths to ignore.  He knows what Tsukishima’s thinking because Tsukishima is unfortunately the only one who has been around him long enough to notice his drinking habits; He never plays games, he barely interacts, just goes for the free alcohol and drinks until he’s asleep or has to stumble back to their dorm. Tsukishima knows that the last place Kageyama would want to be is playing a drinking game with his personal space invaded by two guys firmly pressed against either side of him.  Kageyama stares at the carpet under his feet, wondering why he’s there just as much as Tsukishima probably is.

“What are we playing?” Someone asks, and Kageyama finally looks up, vision blurring a little from raising his head too fast.  He hates being a light-weight.

Bokuto smirks from where he and Kuroo share the recliner, Bokuto sitting on Kuroo’s lap.  He pokes Kuroo in the ribs.  “Let’s play Never Have I Ever, we haven’t done that one in a while.”

“But I always lose,” Kuroo laughs, rubbing a palm over his face.

“I guess, but you’re the one drinking the most, so I’d call that a win.”

Kuroo grins, deviously.  “Yeah, that’s true,” he says, shifting in the recliner and sitting up, keeping Bokuto steadied in his lap.  “All right then, everybody hands up.  Every five fingers down is a shot.  Who wants to start us off?”

The boy who Kagayama is pretty sure named Oikawa pushes himself up from where’s he’s laying on his back across the room and joins the crowd around the table, dragging the tan, muscular guy Kageyama had seen earlier along with him.  

“I’ll staaart,” Oikawa half-sings, half slurs, leaning himself against the other guy for support.  

“Oikawa, you’re already smashed, maybe you should sit this one out,”  Kuroo says, eyeing him carefully.

Oikawa waves a hand dismissively, and smiles.  “I’m _completely_ fine. Right Iwa-chan?” He looks over at the boy he’s leaned up against, eyes bright and wide.

“Your breath smells disgusting.”

“So mean, you just don’t like this game.”  Oikawa sits up straighter, pulling back from the other guy and smiling slyly.  “Never have I ever…” he trails off, eyeing the bottle of tequila on the coffee table, “...been drunk.”  He immediately puts a finger down along with everyone else.

“You’re suppose to say something you haven’t done, dumbass.”  Kuroo rolls his eyes.  “Iwaizumi had to drag your drunk ass home last weekend.”

“But I want to drink,” Oikawa says simply.

Kuroo sighs, “Fine, whatever, just don’t throw up on my carpet again.”

Oikawa salutes and Iwaizumi buries his face in his hands, probably because he knows exactly how the night’s going to end; with Oikawa passed out drunk and on the floor by the looks of it.

“Iwaizumi, your turn.”

“I’m not playing.” He lets Oikawa return to the slumped position against him, head rolling onto his shoulder.  Everyone nods like it’s typical, and turns their focus to the small, blonde girl to Iwaizumi’s right.

“Uhm, never have I ever…”  She stares at the ceiling, nervously tapping her fingers on her knee,  “t _ouchedagirl’sboobs._ ”  The dark-haired girl next to her laughs quietly, and reaches for the trembling hand on the other girl’s leg to fit with her own as more than half of the girls with the Karasuno Volleyball jackets grumble and put a finger down.  Kageyama keeps his eyes trained on everyone’s hands and notices only three guys put a finger down— Kuroo and Oikawa among them, with Kuroo mumbling something to the effect of, “It was a long time ago,” when Bokuto raises his eyebrows at him.

They continue around the circle, fingers dropping and tequila starting to be poured, Oikawa closing his eyes when he swallows down his first shot.  Kageyama looks down at his nine fingers left and hates how inexperienced he feels; self-conscious that his virgin ass sits in the same room as Kuroo “I got fucked in a closet” Tetsurou.  He glances at Hinata to his right, and is glad that at least _someone_ seems to be as pathetic as he is. Hinata has his knees pulled up to his chest, glancing over Kenma’s shoulder at whatever game he’s playing in between turns, and Kageyama finally allows himself to relax into the sofa, too numb to care if Hinata’s thigh is pressed against his.

“Never have I ever kissed a boy,” one of the volleyball girls says, grinning.  She throws an arm over the girl next to her and kisses her cheek as half the room groans.

“You haven’t?” Kageyama nudges Hinata when he realizes he doesn’t put a finger down like the other guys in the room.  

Hinata turns pink.  “No.”

“Oh.”

They stare at each other a moment.

“Well,” Kageyama says, “me either.”  He pauses, letting his brain catch up.  “I mean, a girl, you know.  I haven’t kissed a girl.”  

“Oh,” Hinata replies, cheeks still pink.

 _“Or a guy,”_ he corrects, swallowing, “Or _anyone._ I mean, obviously.”

Tsukishima starts to speak, and Hinata shifts his eyes away, Kageyama focusing back on his hands.  

“Never have I ever,” he says, staring directly at Kuroo and Bokuto, “fucked in my roommate’s bed.”

“Oh come on!” Kuroo laughs, putting his tenth finger down along with Bokuto and pouring a shot for them both.  Bokuto smirks into his shot glass as he gulps it down, messily kissing Kuroo under his jaw after he finishes.

Slowly, Kageyama turns.  “Don’t ever fuck in my bed.”

Tsukishima’s eyes narrow while Yamaguchi’s ears turn red.  “Like I’d ever want to,” he scoffs.  “I’d probably find Dorito crumbs from two months ago.”  

There’s a noise to his right and he can feel Hinata shake against him, bubbling over with laughter.  Kageyama punches him in the shoulder, but Hinata just laughs harder, putting his hands up and saying “Sorry, sorry,” over and over between gasps.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, trying not to notice the way his chest feels on fire.  Hinata’s eyes crinkle at the corners, his smile bright and wide, and he runs a hand through the mess of orange wavy hair atop his head as his laughing starts to fade.  Kageyama can feel the fire in his chest begin to ignite in his face, and he tells himself it’s only because Hinata is laughing at his expense.  He needs a shot.  Or two.

He silently thanks Yamaguchi for his, “Never have I ever gotten in a fight,” because finally he can put another finger down, and not look like such a complete loser.  The tequila bottle stares up at him, and he wonders if anyone would care if he took a shot early.  

“Kageyama, your turn,” Hinata says, grinning and waving a hand in front of his face.

“Oh, uh—”  He looks up at everyones’ eyes on him, wanting to shrink in on himself as he fumbles around for something to say.  “Never have I ever— Uh—”  He focuses his eyes on the ceiling.  “Kissed a girl,” he mumbles quietly.

Kuroo raises his eyebrows at him while Kageyama tries to ignore the stares from all different sides of the room.

“You’re kidding?”  Kuroo says.

Kageyama shakes his head.

“Have you ever kissed anyone at all?”

He shakes his head again, unsure of why so many people were staring back at him so incredulously.

“Wow,”  Kuroo laughs,  “Well it isn’t really a secret that there are plenty of guys here that’d be willing to fix that.”  He smirks, and Kageyama looks from him to Bokuto, feeling sick to his stomach.  

“I— I’m not…”  He trails off, avoiding Kuroo’s eyes.  

This time he does fix himself a shot, no one protesting when he pours out the tequila into the nearest shot glass.  He knows he shouldn’t, knows he can feel the alcohol from earlier still sloshing around in his stomach, but he swallows the tequila thirstily anyway.  It burns down his throat and he has to throw a hand over his mouth to keep himself from spitting it out, coughing when he’s finally drained the glass dry and there are no chasers around to get rid of the taste.

A hand hits him hard on the back and he can hear Hinata saying,  “You good?” in his ear.

Kageyama just keeps his face buried in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.  He’s never felt so uncomfortable in his life.

“Shit, maybe we should have played spin the bottle,” Kuroo jokes.  His eyes casually glance over Kenma who still refuses to look up from his game.  Kuroo sighs as he fills another shot glass to the top.

“This game is taking too long,” the guy with long limbs and light eyes says, grabbing the bottle from Kuroo and pouring a shot of his own.  

“Always so impatient, Lev.”

The room starts to get louder as everyone breaks off into their own conversations; some people leave the group and saunter back to the kitchen to mix more drinks, others leave the apartment entirely, couples with hands held and hopeful faces.  Kageyama takes the chance to escape and makes it just barely to the kitchen before his legs feel wobbly and he sits himself down on the floor, scooting back so he can lean his head against the wall.  He closes his eyes and can feel the room spinning.   _Tomorrow’s going to be a bitch._  He pulls his hoodie up over his head, too warm and stuffy in the apartment to leave it on anymore, and rubs at his numb face wishing everything and everyone would just disappear.

“Kageyama.”

He opens his eyes to a water bottle being pushed into his face, and a familiar orange head of hair behind it.

“What?” he groans.

“You should drink this,” he says, sitting down cross-legged in front of him.  

He takes the water because Hinata’s probably right even if he doesn’t want to admit it.  The cool water in his mouth clears his head if only a little, and he quietly thanks Hinata in a voice so low that he hopes he doesn’t actually hear it.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“I’m not being nice, Kuroo just doesn’t like it when people throw up on the carpet.”  But he smiles just slightly when he says it with his eyes looking down at the floor.

“Whatever.” Kageyama gulps down more water.  

Hinata stays quiet, something Kageyama didn’t know he was capable of but is thankful for, and tries closing his eyes again.  He still has the spins and the world feels like it’s tilting beneath him before his eyes shoot back open.  Across the room, Tsukishima is holding hands with Yamaguchi; he guesses Hinata really wasn’t lying before.  It makes his stomach flip when he realizes he’s kind of jealous of it— the simple way Tsukishima can fit his hand in someone else’s.  He’s such an asshole that Kageyama has to rack his brains to try to figure out why anyone would want to date Tsukishima’s ugly ass in the first place. But at the end of the day, Tsukishima is the one with the boyfriend and Kageyama is the one single and drunk off his ass.

“Why was everyone so surprised?”

“Huh?”

“You haven’t kissed anyone either so why was everyone so surprised that I haven’t?”

“Oh, uh…”  Hinata absently traces patterns with his fingers in the carpet.  “I guess because you’re good looking?  And tall.  And you don’t really talk much, so you’re kind of mysterious too.”

“I’m good looking?” he teases.  His tongue feels dry again so he takes another sip of water.  “I thought you said you’d never try anything on me because I was so ugly?”

“Stop grinning like that, you look like the Devil’s incarnate.”  But then Hinata sighs and says, “I was just saying objectively. I still think you’re ugly so don’t flatter yourself too much, jerk.”

Kageyama pushes him with as much force as his weighted down body will allow him, which isn’t much at all.  “Dumbass Hinata.”

“You’re the dumbass, dumbass.”

He looks back over Hinata’s shoulder into the living room where pop music still plays through the speakers.  It shouldn’t surprise him to see Kuroo curled up next to Bokuto on the recliner sucking a hickey just above his collarbone, but Kageyama’s eyes widen and his heart does this weird jumpy thing in his chest as he watches Bokuto drag a hand under Kuroo’s shirt.  

“Do they always do that?” he asks, breath catching in his throat, still not tearing his eyes away.  

Hinata looks back.  “Oh, yeah.”  He shrugs.  “Kuroo says they’re ‘bro’s with benefits,’ whatever that means.”  

“Oh.”  Kageyama’s face flushes.

“Are you— Oh my God, are you checking them out, Kageyama?”

“What? _No._ God, no. What the hell?”

“You’re literally still looking at them.”

Kageyama snaps his eyes back to Hinata.  “No I’m not.”

“Whatever…”

Hinata doesn’t press it any further, and Kageyama rolls his eyes to the ceiling, wondering if maybe he was checking them out. He thinks about the way Kuroo’s jeans hugged his thighs as he threw them over a very enthusiast Bokuto, and feels his heart jump to his throat— _or is that vomit?_  Either way, it’s not a good feeling.

He’s too drunk to figure everything out in his muddled mind, but just knows he never feels this way around girls, never gets that ache in his chest or flip in his stomach when they approach him with nervous smiles and flirty eyes.  They’ve never made him feel the way he does now, like he’s been slapped in the face with a brick.

“Hinata, how’d you know?” He asks it before he can convince himself out of it, and immediately regrets it.  Nausea comes over him in waves as he tries to gulp down more water that doesn’t seem to be helping anymore.   

“I really liked sports magazines,” he answers simply, focusing his attention to where his fingers play with the hem of his jacket.

“What?”

“What?”  Hinata’s whole face turns red.  “You were asking how I knew—you know— how I _knew_ , right?”

Kageyama grips the carpet beneath his hands and bites down hard on his lip.  “Yeah,”  he whispers.  “Yeah.”  He lifts his hands to his face and cradles his head in his palms, everything feeling fuzzy and far away as if he were looking down at the party from a distance.

“Hey, Kageyama?”

He grunts for him to continue.

“You've been asked out a lot, haven't you?” Hinata stares up at him with wide eyes, and Kageyama pales, his whole body stilling. "Why didn't you say yes to anyone?"

He’s about to say something like, _because no one’s ever interested me_ or, _because I never thought of them that way_ when his stomach cramps and mouth turns sour. He can’t even remember the faces of any of the girls who had confessed to him.  He can’t remember if they were cute or attractive, or if they had long hair and pretty eyes. He doesn’t know anything about them. He doesn’t know because he never cared.  Girls were this distant idea to him; a carefully planted idea in his head that he would one day grow up and find and marry, but that were never a concern for him in the moment.  He would grow up and marry a girl because that was just what happens.  There was never any other option.  

Except now he’s here, drunk, sitting on his ass in some guy’s apartment who recently admitted to sucking off half of the Karasuno Boy’s Volleyball Team.  He’s here on the floor looking up at his fucking roommate pressing a kiss to Yamaguchi’s flushed cheek, and he’s here on the floor watching two nervous girls kiss quietly by the door.  He may not remember the girl who asked him out four months ago, but he remembers the way Suga looked at Daichi like he was a goddamn ray of sunshine. He remembers how Daichi played with Suga’s fingers and smiled soft and slow when he thought no one was watching, and he remembers the ache in his chest as he watched it all unfold in front of him in a coffeeshop just a few days ago.  Kageyama closes his eyes and thinks, maybe the only reason he’d been scared was because for the first time in his life he could look at a couple and think, _that’s what I’ve been looking for._  

Kagayama Tobio opens his eyes, and knows he’s officially fucked.

 _“I’mgonnapuke,”_ he mumbles, barely audible over the music.  Everything feels heavy, the alcohol in his stomach sloshing around as he tries lifting himself off the floor.  

“Kageyama?”  Hinata hurries up and steadies him when Kageyama stumbles forward.  “Hey, are you okay?”

He shakes his head slowly, too scared to open his mouth with the feeling of bile rising in his throat.  The room looks like it’s fading in at the corners and it takes all of his energy to clutch at Hinata’s wrist without falling over.

“Oh God, not yet, don’t puke yet,” Hinata squeals frantically, reading the look on Kageyama’s face.  “Please don’t throw up on me.”  

There’s a hand on his back pushing him into the hallway behind the kitchen and hurriedly guiding him into a bathroom with too-bright lights and hard-tiled floor.  Kageyama drops to his knees as his vision blurs, and empties out his stomach.

“Gross,” Hinata breathes.  “Usually I’m the one puking.”

Kageyama groans, leaning over the toilet while sweat forms on the back of his neck.  His hair sticks to his forehead like it’s the middle of July, and he pukes again miserably, reaching up to flush every ounce of vodka and tequila and fucking orange juice down.  He rests his head on the toilet seat, beyond the point of caring about anything, just listens to the sound of running water and shuffling feet coming from somewhere behind him when something very cold and wet is draped across the back of his neck. He vaguely reaches behind him to see what it is, but Hinata stops him.

“Suga used to do this for me,” he sighs, tugging gently at Kageyama’s shoulder.

He turns and lets Hinata move the wet washcloth to his forehead, wiping away the sheen of sweat and tangled mess of bangs.  Kageyama leans into it.

 _“I don’t want to be this,”_ he chokes out.  His throat feels raw.

Hinata pauses in his movements, washcloth resting on Kageyama’s cheek.  “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, teeth digging into his lip as he runs the cloth over Kageyama’s forehead once more.  Kageyama leans away hurriedly to retch into the toilet again.  

“Why?” he pants, flushing, and staring into the now empty water.  

“If it makes you feel any better…” Hinata says cautiously, “you eventually get used to it.”

“Maybe I don’t want to get used to it,” he mutters thickly into the toilet.  

“Well crying about it isn’t going to change anything.”

“I’m not fucking crying, dumbass!” he says, wiping away the mysterious drops of water rolling down his face with the back of his palm.  He leans back on his heels, stomach feeling empty and head light.  Hinata is back with the washcloth, wiping at his forehead and mouth, then throwing it into the tub beside them.  

Kageyama looks down at his knees.  “Fuck.”  He moves back to lean against the side of the tub and rubs at his eyes with his palms, tired and sick.  “I just want to go home.”

He finally looks up at Hinata who’s nervously fiddling with the zipper of his jacket.  “I’ll walk you home,” he says, getting to his feet.  “You done puking?”

Nodding, he grips the side of the tub to help pull himself up.  Everything still feels a little wobbly, the world still tilted a bit off balance, and his legs kind of feel like they aren’t actually connected to his torso, which is a potential problem for walking.  He takes an experimental step and Hinata just as soon flings an arm around his waist like he totally expects Kageyama to fall flat on his face.  

“You are so smashed,” he says, opening the bathroom door and stumbling out with Kageyama attached to his side.  

The noise from the party sounds even louder than before.  He vaguely registers anyone as they walk into the living room, the music and people all a blur.  

“Ohoho?” Kuroo laughs, seeming to come out of nowhere with a smirk stretched over his face.  “You finally get some tonight, Hinata?”  He raises a hand as if to high-five him, but Hinata just turns red and ignores it.

“N—no! Gross, he just puked his guts out.  I’m walking him home.”

Kuroo’s smirk doesn’t leave his face, and Kageyama is starting to feel more nauseous the longer they stand there, his body burning from the inside-out.

“Alright, have fun you two.”  Kuroo waves, winking suggestively before walking away.

Hinata practically drags him to the door after that, Kageyama trying his best to quickly stumble after him.  

When they make it out the door, he inhales cold, bitter air under the dim apartment lights as muffled music plays behind them, and he steps out from under the awning to see a clear, starry night that he can’t’ look up at for too long without getting dizzy.  He makes it two more steps before there’s a drop in his stomach and a funny taste in his mouth, and then he’s doubled over puking again into the bushes outside Kuroo’s apartment.  

“I thought you said you were done puking!” Hinata says from somewhere behind him, and Kageyama groans, turning around to give him the meanest glare he possibly can.

He stays still for a moment to make sure he is in fact actually done puking this time, then straightens up and joins Hinata a few feet away.  

“I feel like death,” he slurs, swerving as he walks and bumping into Hinata more than a few times.  

“You look like death,” Hinata replies.  “Where do you live anyway?”

Kageyama points in the direction they’re already headed.  “I can get home on my own, I’m not stupid, you know?”

“I’m only walking you so you don’t end up passed out on the side of the road.”  Hinata sighs, looking up at him without saying another word.

They walk quietly in the dark, Kageyama grabbing onto Hinata’s arm every time he gets off balance.  Hinata steadies him, and they continue on, breath visible in front of their faces.  It’s about a ten minute walk from Kuroo’s apartment, but it takes at least another five with Kageyama’s numb legs working hard to keep him upright.  

He thinks about his bed waiting for him in his dorm, ready to be enveloped in sleep and never wake up because waking up would mean remembering this night and remembering this night would mean having to deal with the fact that he’s…

A stoplight ahead reflects on the abandoned street in streaks of red, and they cross the road where Kageyama’s dorm lay just beyond.  He fumbles around for the keys in his back pocket as they near, the tips of his fingers still tingling, and finally turns to look at Hinata when they’re stopped in front of his door.  

“Uhm, thanks,” he says.  And he’s not sure if he’s thanking him for the company home, or for taking care of him as he puked his guts, or maybe if he’s just thanking him for being there at all, but Hinata nods like he gets it and Kageyama is thankful for that.  

“...Are you going to be okay?”

Kageyama shrugs a shoulder, hearing the meaning behind Hinata’s words.  “I guess.”

Hinata nods again, and bites his lip.  “You know I’m here if you need me, alright?”

“Uhm— right,” he answers, unsure of how else to respond to the wide eyes staring up at him.  He swallows.  “Well...I’m going to go pass out now.”

He turns his keys into the door, mumbling out a good night to Hinata.

“Night, Kageyama.  Good luck with your hangover tomorrow!” he says entirely too loud in the quiet night air.

Kageyama rolls his eyes as he shuts the door behind him.  He slinks over to his bed, falling face-first into the mess of blankets and pillows, and kicks off his shoes before burying himself beneath the covers.  It’s when he closes his eyes, in his drunken state, precariously on the edge of sleep, he thinks back to Hinata’s words, _I’m here if you need me_ , and even though it’s new and unfamiliar, and coming from a short, annoying guy with hair too bright, Kageyama can’t help but think those words sound kind of... nice.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you guys have been so nice and supportive, thank you! I love reading all of your comments. :)
> 
> This chapter is honestly a little self-indulgent, but I love reading/writing shotgunning so I'm not really sorry about it, hahah. Longer chapter will be up tomorrow!

“ _Kenma_ , my favorite person in the world!” Kuroo flings himself onto the couch, throwing an arm over the smaller boy’s shoulder, and grins.  “What’re you playing, huh?”

Kenma shrugs him off.  “Doesn’t matter.”  He zips up his hoodie and turns off his game for the first time that night.  “I was about to leave, anyway.”

“Huh?  No, don’t go yet,” Kuroo practically whines, catching Kenma by the sleeve when he gets up.  “Smoke with me, c’mon.”  He tries to look up at him with big eyes and a pleading face, but Kenma looks away and Kuroo’s heart sinks.

“Go smoke with Bokuto, I’m tired,” he says flatly, but Kuroo can sense the annoyance in his voice.  He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s weighing out the words he’s about to say next in his head.  “...I thought you promised you’d talk to me tonight.”

Kuroo swallows.  “I tried, but you were playing your game the whole damn time.”

“Maybe I was only playing because you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, and runs a hand through his hair.  “Then stay and talk with me now.”

There’s a sad look in Kenma’s eyes that Kuroo can’t quite put a finger on, but it has his heart swelling and mind swimming and palms sweating so hard he can’t focus on anything else in the room.  Kenma is perfect, and Kuroo is just a pile of fucking trash who can’t even keep a promise to hang out with his best friend.  He can’t help but think that Kenma really deserves better than him.

Kuroo tugs at Kenma’s jacket in response to his silence, and Kenma looks like he’s about to sit back down before he gently pulls away again.  “No, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, quietly.  “Drink a lot of water tonight.  You’re so whiny when you’re hungover.”

“Yeah, okay.”  Kuroo lets him go, and gives him a half-hearted smile that isn’t returned.  He watches his back until he’s through the apartment door, grabs the nearest red cup within reach, and downs the rest of something that tastes like peaches and rubbing alcohol.  

“Hey, Bokuto!”  he calls across the room. “Come over here”  

Bokuto is there in a second, abandoning whatever he had been fiddling with on the stereo, and draping himself across the couch with his head in Kuroo’s lap.  “Yes?”

“Where’s Akaashi?”

“He left,”  Bokuto frowns.  “Didn’t tell me he was leaving either until he was back in his room.”  

Kuroo notices the hard look in Bokuto’s eyes and knows he’s upset, so he drags his fingers gently through the boy’s now flattening hair.  It took some time to get used to Bokuto’s moods, his sudden drops from high to low, but Kuroo’s learned a lot from the last two years of living with him and one of them is that he’s a total loser who likes his hair played with when he’s feeling down.  So that’s what Kuroo does, curling the loose strands of silver and black hair in his fingers while Bokuto mopes in his lap.

“How about Kenma?” he asks, suddenly, looking up at Kuroo.

“Ahh, he’s mad at me and left.”

“Why?”

Kuroo sighs.  “Because I fucking suck, I don’t want to talk about it.  You want to smoke a bowl with me?”

That seems to lift Bokuto’s spirits just a little.  He pushes himself off of Kuroo’s lap with a grin starting to form.  “Yeah yeah, let’s do it.”

There’s still a handful of people at the party, but they quietly slip into Kuroo’s room anyway, neither of them really in the mood for sharing.  Kuroo grabs his piece, a lighter, and the small bag of weed buried in his nightstand drawer, then sits himself down on his bed opposite of Bokuto.  

“You look like you could use the first hit,” Kuroo says.

Bokuto reaches for the piece when Kuroo finishes filling the bowl, clicking the lighter and taking a long hit that has him coughing by the end of it.  He passes it to Kuroo and Kuroo repeats the motions he’s done dozens of times; lighting up on the foot of his bed with Bokuto wasn’t exactly a new experience.

He kind of feels like shit, watching Bokuto press his lips to the piece and knowing where this will inevitably lead.  It’s not that it isn’t _nice_ sometimes to have a friend willing to makeout with you, especially when that friend is admittedly very attractive, but Bokuto isn’t Kenma and Bokuto will never be Kenma.

“Hey, c’mere.” He lifts his hand to Bokuto’s jaw and pulls him in slowly.  “Open your mouth.”  

Bokuto complies, and Kuroo takes a hit, holding in the smoke as he leans into the other boy and fills Bokuto’s lungs; exhaling and inhaling into each other, little curls of smoke blowing out from Bokuto’s mouth.  

“All right,” he smiles, “now my turn.”  Bokuto grabs Kuroo’s face in both his hands after he’s inhaled, blowing the smoke right between Kuroo’s lips, and Kuroo smiles back.  

They pass the piece back and forth until the bowl is running low.  Kuroo takes one more hit and falls to his back, exhaling up to the ceiling.  

“You want me to re-fill it?”  Kuroo asks, but Bokuto shakes his head and leans over Kuroo to drop everything back into the nightstand.

“I’m good,” he says, laying down next to him.  He rests his hand on the space just where Kuroo’s shirt rides up, and the teasing of Bokuto’s fingers as they trail to his hips makes Kuroo’s mind turn static.

“Mmm.”  Kuroo turns towards Bokuto, placing his elbows on either side of the latter’s face to hover over him.  “You’re hot, you know that?”

Bokuto doesn’t say anything, just laughs and pulls Kuroo down for a kiss.  His hand still roams up Kuroo’s body as he slips his tongue into his mouth, and Kuroo groans, pressing up harder against him.  

They continue sucking at each other’s lips until they’re swollen, Kuroo moving to bite down Bokuto’s neck.  He makes sure to leave a mark next to the faded hickey he’d given Bokuto on New Years; it has Bokuto squirming, hand now fisted in Kuroo’s hair as Kuroo sucks the spot just above his collarbone.  Kuroo shifts and can feel Bokuto getting hard beneath him.

“I wanna suck you off,” he mumbles into Kuroo’s hair.  “Can I suck you off tonight?”

Kuroo nods into his neck and lets Bokuto turn him over, switching positions.  He straddles Kuroo, grins, and leans down to press a kiss to the side of his mouth before sliding Kuroo’s shirt up over his head.  Bokuto kisses him again, this time lingering, letting their mouths move to the muffled music from the living room.  

“You’re thinking about Kenma,” Bokuto says against his lips.

“So?” Kuroo licks at his mouth.  “You’re thinking about Akaashi, aren’t you?”

Bokuto just hums, leaving Kuroo’s mouth to press a kiss to his chest.  He fumbles with Kuroo’s jeans in one hand and traces Kuroo’s hipbone with the other, descending further and further down his chest and down his stomach until he’s at the waistline of Kuroo’s boxer-briefs.  

Kuroo nods when Bokuto looks up at him, and lets his eyes fall shut.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm procrastinating on writing an essay so I finished editing this chapter instead, hahah, I hope you all like it! 
> 
> Feel free to come and say hey on tumblr (peppermintwind.tumblr.com) or twitter (@PeppermintWind)!

Being gay is a lot less earth-shattering than Kageyama expects it to be.  

He rolls out of bed at seven on Sunday morning to throw up once more in the toilet; the view of the toilet bowl starting to get really old; rubs his eyes, and brushes his teeth until the fuzziness in his mouth has finally dissipated.  He doesn’t even remember that he’d had this “earth-shattering” realization until he’s sitting on the shower floor, having no energy or will to stand, and staring at the tiled wall while letting his thoughts drift.   It feels like this should be bigger than it is.  It feels like there should be something noticeably different between now and two days ago, like suddenly seeing in shades of rainbow.  But there isn’t. There’s just the tiredness in his bones and the ache in his head, and the desire to sleep it all off.

Kageyama stares at his hands that are starting to wrinkle in the water, and thinks about what Hinata had said, about how he’d eventually get used to it.  He pushes himself up with shaky arms, wondering why Hinata even bothered trying to help him in the first place.  It’s not like he wasn’t used to drinking by himself at parties or dragging himself back to his dorm afterwards.  But Hinata was just...Hinata, annoying and persistent, talking to him even through his meanest glares.  It’s a miracle, really, that Kageyama hasn’t managed to scare him off yet.

He pulls back on his pajamas, swallows down two advil, and makes his way back to his bed, fully intending to sleep at least four more hours.

It’s as he’s about to lay down, eyes on the brink of closing, that he notices Tsukishima is staring at him.

“What are you looking at?  Why are you even awake?”

“Because someone is the loudest fucking puker in the world, you fucking lightweight.”

Kageyama grabs the nearest pillow and flings it at him.  It misses by several feet.

“Just let me sleep,” he groans, pulling the covers up to his ears.  He closes his eyes, actually thinking that Tsukishima might just leave him alone this time, before remembering that’s something that never happens.

“I saw you with Hinata,” he says vaguely.

Kageyama’s eyes open just barely.  “So?”

“You guys looked close. I thought you said you hated him less than a week ago.”  Tsukishima raises an eyebrow, smirking.

_“What are you talking about?”_

“I’m talking about how I saw you being dragged off by Hinata down the hallway last night.”

“Yeah,” Kageyama says louder now, eyes completely open and sitting up in his bed.  “Because I was about to fucking throw up on him, dumbass.  I spent the last part of the night puking as he made sure I didn’t die from alcohol poisoning.”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes.  “Wow, romantic.”

“I’m not even—”  But he stops himself, swallows, and backtracks.  “I can’t believe you never told me.”

“Told you what?”

“You know what.”

“No,” he says flatly, “ I don’t.  Please enlighten me.”

Kageyama glares.

“Oh,” Tsukishima says suddenly, breaking the silence.  He’s sitting up in his bed like Kageyama, back pressed against the headboard with a sarcastic look on his face.  “You mean that I’m fucking _queer_? That I have a _boyfriend?_  Is that too much for you to handle; to even come out and ask?”  Tsukishima is the one glaring now. “Sorry I didn’t think it was that important to share with my _straight_ roommate who can’t even so much as say the word ‘gay.’”

Huffing loudly, Kageyama clenches his fists in the sheets pulled over him.  “When have I ever in my life told you I was straight?”  

Tsukishima stares and Kageyama can feel his heart jumping in his chest.  This isn’t how he planned to start his morning.  He didn’t even plan to tell Tsukishima, to tell anyone except Hinata who already knew.  But Kageyama is starting to realize that nothing ever really goes according to his plans, and anger and impulse fuels his words as he spits them back at Tsukishima who doesn’t seem to look so smug anymore.

“Please tell me all about the last girlfriend I had,” Kageyama throws at him, “I’d love to hear all about it.  Trust me, I really would.”  He sighs, then lays back down, turning towards the wall with his back to Tsukishima.  

“I always thought you were just awkward and bad at talking to girls.”  Tsukishima pauses.  “But I guess you’re really just awkward and bad at talking to guys.”

“Please let me sleep,” Kageyama mutters into his pillow.

And surprisingly, Tsukishima doesn’t say another word.

* * *

He wakes up for the second time to the sound of his phone dinging repeatedly at almost noon, and grabs at it angrily, wondering who the hell is texting him because the only texts he gets are from Tsukishima when he’s forgotten his key, or his mom.

A number he doesn’t recognize appears on his screen along with three texts.  

>>hey

>> are you awake???

>>kageyama??

Well whoever it was, they obviously knew _him._ Kageyama sends back a reply.

>> who is this?

It only takes a second for the other person to respond.

>> hinata

>> i hav a surprise for u

Kageyama squints his eyes at the text.   _A surprise?  What the fuck does that mean?_

>>how did you even get my number wtf

>>kuroo gave it to me

 _Of course he did._  Kuroo had his number because of their group project; not that either of them really did that much work on it.  He lets out a big sigh.

>> so can i come over??

>>why?

>>so i can give u your present!!!!!

  
He is definitely going to regret this.

>>i guess

>> ill be there soon!!!

Kageyama doesn’t bother replying, just swings his legs over the bed and starts getting ready to look at least somewhat presentable.  He throws a hoodie on over his sleep shirt and pulls on a pair of jeans. He smooths down his hair with his fingers so he doesn’t look like as much of a mess as he feels,  then “makes” his bed, which really just consists of pulling the top blanket over the wrinkled sheets underneath.  It’s after he’s done, that he realizes Tsukishima isn’t in his bed and he thanks fucking god that he doesn’t have to see his stupid face right now.  

Hinata bangs on the door a few minutes later.

“Hey,” Kageyama greets grumpily.  He looks from Hinata’s grinning face to the pile of magazines stacked in his hands.  “Did you bring me porn mags or something?”

Hinata looks scandalized.  “No!”  He shoves Kageyama aside, walking into the room and dropping the magazines to the floor.  “You look really scary today, by the way.”

“Thanks, I’m hungover,”  Kageyama sighs, shutting the door and joining Hinata where he’s sat himself down on the floor by the magazines.  “Is this suppose to be my surprise?”  He lifts up one of the magazines to read the cover:   _Volleyball Monthly._  He lifts up another  “Sports magazines?  I am in the middle of a sexuality cris and you brought me sports magazines?”

“They helped me!” Hinata defends, sorting through the pile.  “I just thought maybe…”  He seems to find the magazine he’s looking for and flips through it.  It’s one of the volleyball ones.  “You can throw them away if you want, ok, I just thought you could use them more than me.”  He turns the magazine around and points to a picture a very tall, muscular volleyball player.  “He’s my favorite.”  

Kageyama buries his face in his hands.  “This is so weird,” he mutters through his fingers.  He takes another look at the magazine and can’t help but notice the guy on the opposite page of the one Hinata has his finger on; someone labeled the “Small Giant” with messy hair and a big smile that makes Kageyama’s heart beat just a little faster.  He shakes it off and doesn’t let on to Hinata who’s looking up at him expectantly.  “He’s okay, I guess,” is all he says, shrugging when Hinata eyes widen.  “He looks like an asshole.”

“Whatever, you’re stupid.”  Hinata stacks everything back into a neat pile, biting at his lower lip and looking a little unsure of himself.  “Sorry, I can take them back if you don’t want them.”

Kageyama notices Hinata’s face has gone red, and he sighs loudly, mad that he actually feels kind of bad for the annoying idiot.  “I’ll keep them, ok, just put them on my bed or something.”

Hinata seems to physically brighten as he picks up the magazines and dumps them onto Kageyama’s bed.  “Do you want to grab coffee?”

“Do I look like I want to leave this room?”  He squints up at Hinata.  “Are you even hungover at all?”

“Not really.”

“I hate you so much,” Kageyama grumbles, resting his head on his bent knees and closing his eyes, wondering if he could make Hinata disappear through sheer will.

“So do you want to go?”

“God, you’re impossible,” he exhales, still not opening his eyes.  

“Come on, Kageyama, it’ll make you feel better!”  

There’s a tugging on his sleeve, Hinata trying to pull him off up the floor, and Kageyama makes sure to glare in his direction before finally standing.  He digs his hands deep into his hoodie’s pockets, but Hinata grabs hold of his wrist anyway, dragging him out the door and into the offending daylight before Kageyama can change his mind.

* * *

He can’t figure Hinata out.  He goes on talking up at him like they’ve known each other for ages and Kageyama just lets him, giving a hum of agreement whenever the conversation calls for it.  Hinata is going on about some kind of video game that Kageyama’s never heard of, smiling and gesturing while he talks.

“And then you get to the third boss and it’s like _BAM_ , y’know?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Hinata gapes. “You have to come over and play me!  Kenma has all of these other games, too.  He’s a lot better than me, but I bet I could still kick your ass.”

“Not a chance.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Hinata smirks.

Kageyama, just barely, smirks back.   

It’s impossible to understand why Hinata seems to keep showing up into his life; impossible to understand why Kageyama hasn’t just shrugged him off already like he has with everyone else.  He’s not used to someone rambling on along the side of him.  Actually, he usually can’t fucking stand it.  He hates meaningless conversation and feeling indebted to respond. It’s too much effort to keep up a friendship and Kageyama has never bothered with it. But Hinata talks and talks with January air puffing out his lungs, looking up at Kageyama every other sentence to make sure he’s still listening, and Kageyama looks back and nods along if just to indulge him, wondering if this is what a having a real friend feels like. He wonders if Hinata even considers them friends when they’ve barely known each other a week.

They enter Karasuno Coffee, and Kageyama can hear his stomach audibly growl as he looks at the muffins and bagels and cookies on display.  The second thing he notices is that Suga’s working today, looking up at them and smiling warmly, and that Daichi isn’t.  Another guy is working behind the espresso machine, a guy that Kageyama recognizes but doesn’t know.  He has his hair in a loose bun, a scruffy chin, and arms that look like they could crush Kageyama’s skull.  Kageyama has always been a little scared of him.

“You look rough.” Suga laughs a little, and Kageyama can’t find it in him to be mad about it.  He just nods, noticing the small dimples in Suga’s cheeks.

“That’s putting it lightly,” Hinata says, dropping his elbows to the counter and leaning towards Suga. “You should have seen him last night.”

Kageyama shoves him lightly.   _“Do you ever shut up?”_

They glare at each other for a moment, but Suga interrupts them.  “Drinks on me,” he says.

“Yes!”

“Not for you,” Suga rolls his eyes, “Your friend looks like he could really use it more than you.”  He smiles as Kageyama stares back at him, then turns to the bigger guy behind him and rattles off Kageyama’s usual order.

 _Your friend_ , Kageyama repeats the words in his head before mumbling out a quiet, “thanks.”

“Asahi!”  Hinata shouts at the guy making his coffee.  He gives a little jump at his name, but smiles nicely at Hinata.  “Where’s Noya at?”

Asahi looks at his watch and then says in a voice much more soft-spoken than Kageyama expects, “Probably just getting out of bed.  He said he’d be around here later today.”

“You guys should come to GSA more often, you’re never there,” Hinata accuses.

“I usually have work,”  Asahi shrugs.  “But I’ll try to make it with Nishinoya soon.”  He smiles softly and hands Kageyama his drink.  

Hinata orders a muffin and a coffee, and they go to sit in the back corner against the window. It’s more crowded than the last time they were here together, with more than a few people looking hungover to hell and back.  Kageyama watches the people trail in and out, some alone, some in groups, some obviously on a date.  He watches guys holding their girlfriend’s hand. He watches the same couples being way too publicly affectionate.  It makes him feel sick again.

“Kageyama?”  Hinata waves a hand in front of his face.

“Huh?”

“You were staring into space like an idiot, I’m pretty sure you’re drooling, too.”  He takes a bite out of his muffin and smiles.

“Shut up. You know you have that muffin all over your stupid face.”

Hinata wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.  “You’re such an asshole.”

“Then why do you keep talking to me if I’m such an asshole?” Kageyama snaps, eyes narrowing as he drinks down his coffee.

“Because—!” Hinata breaks off, his cheeks pink.

“Just because?”  Kageyama rolls his eyes.  “Whatever, give me some of that.”  He tears off a piece of the muffin sitting between them and pops it in his mouth.  It’s blueberry.

“Hey!”

Kageyama shrugs.  “I’m hungry.”  He gaze drifts over behind Hinata to Suga who was definitely staring at them a second ago before being caught.  Suga whispers something to Asahi, and it makes Kageyama squirm self-consciously.  “Suga keeps looking over at us and smiling weird,” he whispers.  

“Ignore him,” Hinata groans, putting his forehead down on the table.  “He thinks any guy I talk to is someone I’m interested in dating.”  His words are muffled and miserable sounding, like he’s dealing with an embarrassing parent; the kind that ask their kids about who they have a crush on and want to know everything about their romantic lives.

“Oh,” he breathes.  He almost pities Hinata, but is too busy trying to calm down his nerves as his face heats up.  He steals another piece of muffin and chews on it through the silence.  “I don’t date annoying idiots.”

Hinata’s head perks up, shooting lasers with his eyes.  “Well, I don’t date mean jerks who steal my food,” he says, grabbing his muffin and pulling it back towards himself.

“Glad we’ve established that,” Kageyama deadpans, but the impassiveness on his face doesn’t quite match the sweatiness of his palms or the meltdown in his brain when he remembers that dating is a thing that people do and not only does he have absolutely no experience with girls, he also has no idea how to be in a relationship with a guy. And how does that even work?  And how would he tell his parents?  And who would even want to date him in the first place when he’s apparently a “mean jerk who steals food.”

It’s amazing how casual Kuroo can be about making out with Bokuto; how he can just rattle off his gay sexual experiences like it’s no big deal.  It makes Kageyama want to combust just thinking about _dating_ a guy. He’s completely shut his brain off from thinking about anything more than that for fear of a heart attack.  

As if he’s willed the guy into appearing, Kuroo walks into the coffee shop not even a minute later, eyes half-lidded, his hand resting on Kenma’s shoulder.  He looks like he had a rough morning.  Kuroo’s hair sticks up at odd angles, more-so than usual, his track pants and loose black t-shirt most likely what he slept in the night before.  Kageyama watches them give their orders, watches Kuroo’s hand drift up from Kenma’s shoulder to his hair, absently threading his fingers through the blonde and brown coming in from the roots.  He says something to Kenma that Kageyama can’t hear, but Kenma lightly punches him in the arm and Kuroo smiles down at him.

“Hey, guys,” Kuroo greets, his voice a little scratchy, as he and Kenma walk to the back with coffees in hand.  “Have fun last night?”  

“If you call almost being thrown up on fun,” Hinata says sarcastically.  

“I should’ve thrown up on you. It would make up for you spilling coffee all over me.”

“Are you still on about that? I already bought you another coffee!”

Kuroo watches them bicker back and forth, then laughs.  “I’ll see you guys at the next party then?”  He smirks, starting to walk away before either of them can answer with Kenma trailing behind him.  Kenma gives a small wave to the each of them before settling into a booth with Kuroo.

It’s only a damn week into the semester and already Kageyama has experienced more in the last seven days than he has in the last two years of college combined.  He glances back at Kenma and Kuroo who are contentedly sitting across from each other, and wonders if going to Kuroo’s party was a huge mistake.  The alcohol in his blood had made the world seem distant, like he’d been looking through fogged-up windows on a winter morning; the bodies crowded and close in the living room, kisses being pressed to necks and hands being held in the open had made Kageyama’s mind turn to hyperdrive and his stomach flip as Hinata only made it worse until he was puking in a toilet with realization at the back of his throat.  It definitely wasn’t how he planned to start off the semester.  He likes the quiet, indifferently walking through life, just trying to get through tiring lectures and math homework so he can sleep the rest of the day away.  

But he looks at Hinata across from him, bright and loud and annoying in every way possible, and he just knows he’s in for it this semester.  Even if Kageyama wanted to shake him off at this point, he doesn’t think he could. Hinata clings like dryer lint to Kageyama’s favorite black hoodie.  It was annoying at first, but he’s started to accept it, maybe even look forward to Hinata’s ramblings on the way to class, not that he likes admitting to himself.  

Sometimes it’s just nice for someone to be there.

* * *

A couple of months pass by in a series of cold fronts, January blowing into February with iced-over sidewalks and the crunchiness of frozen grass under Kageyama and Hinata’s shoes.  They’ve gotten into a routine.  Hinata swings by Kageyama’s dorm on the way to Monday and Wednesday classes, usually having a one-way conversation with him until he’s fully woken up.  Sometimes they get coffee if they’re not running late, and Kageyama will still remind him not to spill it everywhere.  Kageyama isn’t really sure how they fell into this routine so easily; he isn’t sure why Hinata of all people is the one for it to happen with either.  He’s vaguely annoying at the best of times, completely infuriating at the worst.  He’s too loud in the mornings and doesn’t brush his hair, he’s clumsy and says that dumbest things that has Kageyama throwing a hand over his face on most days.  But Hinata’s still _there,_ animatedly complaining about their latest homework assignment or racing Kageyama to his dorm for fun, and Kageyama can’t really believe that Hinata still hasn’t given up on him.  

They hang out a lot more now, but fight just as often as before.  They fight about what movie to watch or which character they play in video games, they never agree, and Hinata is as impossible as always.  They throw insults back and forth, usually until one of them says something so ridiculous that it has Hinata bursting out laughing and Kageyama cracking a smile despite trying not to show it.

Kageyama learns a lot about Hinata in the weeks they seem to continuously see each other.  Hinata hasn’t declared a major, like himself, and his grades are just as bad as Kuroo had teased at the beginning of the semester. Hinata’s favorite food is steamed pork buns, often convincing Kageyama to walk with him to the convenience store to buy a few. They usually eat them on the floor of Hinata’s dorm room, playing video games with Kenma, and getting their asses kicked no matter what game it is.  The days like these are how he learns that Hinata is fucking relentless, never giving up whether it’s in arguments or video games.  And neither does Kageyama.  They can play Mario Kart for hours, Hinata insisting on one more game every time he loses.  

It’s one of those times now.  Hinata and Kageyama lean up against the side of Hinata’s bed, staring at the TV screen with video game controllers in their hands and determination on their faces.  Their elbows touch as they lean towards the TV, each on their final lap.  

Hinata laughs loudly.  “Sorry Kageyama, looks like you’re losing this one.”  

“That’s what you think,” Kageyama grins mischieviously even though he’s two places behind Hinata.  

“Awwh, no!  What the hell!”  Hinata abandons looking at the screen to scowl at Kageyama.  “I can’t believe you just blue-shelled me!”

Kageyama shrugs and gives a small smile as he overtakes Hinata and crosses the finish line.  “I’m two ahead now, you know?”  

“Shut up, one more time!”

“Stop yelling, it’s like one in the morning,” Kageyama yawns into his hand.  “I should probably head back.”

“But it’s a Saturday,” Hinata whines, sinking down until he’s laying on the floor, controller resting on his chest.  “And I want to win before you go.”

“Too bad.”  Kageyama lifts himself up from the floor, about to help roll the controllers up when he hears Hinata mumble something behind him.  “Huh?”

“I said you should stay.”  They stare at each other a moment before Hinata starts back.  “I mean Kenma’s staying at Kuroo’s tonight, so you could have my bed and I’ll sleep in Kenma’s and then we can finish playing and—”

To say it’s been a while since Kageyama’s last sleepover would be an understatement.  It’s been years, at least since middle school, but Hinata keeps rambling on with a look on his face that seems kind of hopeful, and it’s making it very difficult to say no. It’s been difficult to say no to Hinata a lot lately, he thinks.

“I don’t have anything with me,” he says, looking blankly at the boy on the floor.

“So? Do you really need anything? I think you’ll live not brushing your teeth for one night.”  Hinata lifts the controller off the floor and hands it to Kageyama.  “Come on, Kageyama.  One more round.”

Kageyama sighs and brushes his bangs back from his forehead.  “Okay, okay.”  He sits back down next to Hinata, glancing over at him when he isn’t looking.  Hinata’s eyes are focused on the television, his hair is even more a mess than usual.  There’s a small smile on his face, and for unknown reasons it makes the back of  Kageyama’s neck feel warm and his breathing halt for just a second.  “You’re so….”  he fades off, not really knowing what he was intending on saying.  

“So, what?”

“So stupid,” Kageyama finishes at once, snapping his head back to the screen.  “Now what track do you want to race this time?”

Hinata rolls his eyes, then pauses like he has an idea.  “We should make this into a drinking game,” he says suddenly, crawling to the other side of bed and starting to feel around beneath it before Kageyama can protest.

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

Kageyama watches Hinata search beneath the bed, stretching himself further as his hand reaches and grabs hold of what is presumably alcohol. Hinata’s shirt rides up, and Kageyama notices three freckles on the small of his back before turning away with his palms beginning to sweat.  

“You’re always no fun.”  Hinata crawls back out from under the bed with a half a bottle of tequila in hand, placing it between Kageyama and himself.  “These are the rules—”

“I never agreed to this,” he says, but something alight in Hinata’s eyes makes him bite his tongue as Hinata continues on.

“Every time we fall off the course we have to drink.  And every time we lose a round we have to take a drink.”

Kageyama grumbles out an “okay” and Hinata grins infectious and blinding as he turns his attention back to the TV and picks out their next track.

“No, hell no!” Kageyama reaches for the other boy’s controller when he realizes what he’s about to do, and Hinata laughs, pulling the controller out of reach.  “I’m going to get alcohol poisoning,” he says, pulling back and accepting his fate as Hinata selects Rainbow Road.  “I fucking hate you.”

“No you don’t,” Hinata grins.

In under twenty seconds Kageyama is already drinking as his car flips over the edge into fucking Rainbow Space.  He makes a face as the tequila enters his mouth, and Hinata’s laughing and laughing until he’s fallen off, too, and grabs the bottle from Kageyama to take a drink himself.

They play and pass the bottle for another half an hour, and Kageyama can feel the weight of the alcohol in his muscles and bones.  He’s tipsy, definitely tipsy, but still faring better than Hinata who has a permanent flush on his cheeks and eyes looking more and more unfocused.  

Hinata loses for the second time in a row, takes a swig from the bottle and scrunches up his eyes.  “This isn’t as fun as I originally thought it would be,” he says, opening his eyes back up and coughing.  “You’re too good at this game.”

Kageyama leans back against the side of the bed, and turns towards Hinata.  “Maybe you just suck,” he says, and Hinata hits him right in the chest.

“Asshole,” Hinata mutters, then gives a long sigh and eases himself down onto the floor.  He curls in on himself, resting his head in Kageyama’s lap.

The only noise in the room is the video game’s music playing on a loop, and Kageyama’s mind goes blank as he looks down at the orange hair splayed out on his thighs. Hinata is turned away from him, fingers tracing absent-mindedly over Kageyama’s knee.  He shifts and Kageyama holds his breath, suddenly aware of every nerve and inch of skin on his body.  It’s the tequila, Kageyama thinks, making his senses feel ten times stronger, making the touch of Hinata’s fingers feel like they’re burning through his jeans.  He doesn’t let his mind think farther than that, his thoughts coming to a complete halt. He stares at the back of Hinata’s head and refuses to question why the other boy has decided to drape himself over his legs, lazily yawning into his thighs.

“What’re you doing?” Kageyama asks quieter than he’d meant to.  He shifts one of his legs, trying to get Hinata to move.  

“Huh?”  Hinata rolls over onto his back, turning his attention up to Kageyama, and blinks at him with tired eyes.  “You should really come to the GSA meetings,” he says, ignoring Kageyama’s question.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I was just thinking about it,”  Hinata says simply, finally lifting himself up from Kageyama’s lap.

“...I don’t know.”

“You always say that; just come one day.”  Hinata sits back against the bed, closer to Kageyama than before.  Their shoulders touch, but Hinata doesn’t seem to notice or care.  “Maybe you’ll even meet someone,” Hinata teases, smile returning back to his face.

“You’re annoying,” Kageyama huffs, face flushing.  “Maybe I don’t want to meet anyone.”  

It’s partially true, he thinks.  He really doesn’t want to meet anyone; for things to get complicated and confusing.  He has no idea what he’s doing, he has no experience. He’d just fuck it up and embarrass himself.  But then there’s another part of him that craves it— even if he only admits it to himself at three in the morning on nights he can’t sleep with his face buried into a pillow.

“Oh,” Hinata laughs a little, “So you already have your eye on someone then?”  He laughs some more, obviously enjoying the look of discomfort on Kageyama’s face.  “I can’t believe you never told me, Kageyama.  Friends are suppose to talk about this kind of stuff, y’know?”

“I don’t—”  Kageyama starts, face still red.  

“You’re blushing.” Hinata smiles.  

“I’m not!”

“Tell me, tell me, I want to know who he is!  Is he in our class?  Do I know him?”

Kageyama’s hands are balled into fists at his sides, fingernails digging into his palms as Hinata interrogates him.  He’s never even really thought about it before, noticing when someone’s attractive, and never taking it beyond that.  But Suga’s smile comes to mind before he can stop himself, and his heart beats faster thinking back to his dimples and big eyes and soft voice and— “I don’t like anyone, shut up!”

Hinata looks at him skeptically.  “Liar.”

“I mean Suga’s...nice... nice looking, but I don’t like him,” Kageyama admits, staring hard at the floor and avoiding Hinata’s eyes at all costs.  “I don’t like anyone.”

“Yeah, well everyone and their mom thinks Suga’s cute,” Hinata rolls his eyes.  “I kind of had a big crush on him my freshman year before I found out he was dating Daichi.”

There’s a small, shy smile playing on his lips and he looks away as soon as Kageyama looks back up at him, surprised.  

“He was the president of GSA my freshman year and I was new, you know, and he was really nice...” he goes on quietly.

Kageyama doesn’t say anything, mostly because he doesn’t know _what_ to say.  He watches Hinata fumble around for words and thinks he might be just as embarrassed as Hinata is.

“Anyway, I think you should come to GSA, it’s not like you’re ever doing anything else.”

“Why are you always so persistent,” he sighs, feeling defeated, and closes his eyes.  “Maybe.”

Hinata seems satisfied enough with the answer, sitting back on his heels and finally realizing the game that they’ve been ignoring for the last ten minutes.

“I… don’t want to drink anymore,” he says, glancing down at the bottle of tequila with his face scrunched up.

“I think that’s a good call.”  

They decide to play a few more rounds, Hinata stowing the bottle back under the bed beforehand.  Kageyama can feel his eyelids begin to droop, and knows Hinata is feeling just as tired as he is by the amount of weight he’s leaning into him.  He glances down to see Hinata’s eyes blinking every two-seconds, lazily moving the joystick like he’s on automatic; his brain asleep, but his body keeping him awake.  He barely notices Hinata’s side pressed into him anymore, too tired to care, and too used to Hinata’s weird behavior to think anything about it.  His orange hair tickles Kageyama’s neck, and he passingly thinks it’s kind of comforting.  He doesn’t know if this is what friends usually do together, if it’s normal to think that your friend (especially someone like Hinata) is _comforting_ of all things.  Sometimes it’s difficult to tell if they’re even friends with how much they fight, how much Hinata calls him an asshole or makes fun of his “devil smile.” He tries not to question it as he loses himself in the game, focusing on just staying on that goddamn Rainbow Road, but his tongue is loose on tequila and he’s been wanting to make sense of everything for months.

Hinata yawns quietly.

“Hinata…”  

“Hmm?”  

“We’re friends, right?”

There’s a pause, and Kageyama begins to feel numb.  It was such a stupid thing to ask, he doesn’t know why he even bothered to ask it in the first place.  

“Of course we’re friends, stupid, you’re my best friend,” Hinata says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.  He passes over the finish line in the game right before Kageyama, finally tying their score.  

Kageyama stares at Hinata, his eyebrows pulled together.  “But you call me an asshole all the time?” He says it like a question, and Hinata lifts himself up from where he’d be leaning on Kageyama, turning to him with a look on his face that Kageyama can’t place.

His eyes are squinted up at him, his mouth slightly parted.  He seems just as confused as Kageyama is.  “Kageyama,” he says seriously.  “You’re an asshole, but you’re not an _asshole.”_

“That doesn’t make any sense, Hinata.”

“I mean,”  Hinata drifts his eyes to the ceiling.  “You’re not actually as much of an asshole as you think you are— or other people think you are—you’re just… Kageyama.”  Hinata shrugs, still focused on the ceiling and cheeks turning pink.

“I’m just...Kageyama?”

“Yeah.”

Their eyes meet for a moment, and it feels like complete stillness takes over the room; like snow falling on a winter night, so quiet it almost seems like they’re dreaming.  He briefly wonders if it’s snowing right now, knows it’s definitely cold enough, and it catches him off guard when he can smell tequila on Hinata’s breath.  His thoughts are brought back into the room and specifically to Hinata who is much closer than Kageyama had noticed before, and they look at each other unwaveringly.

Hinata swallows.  “I’m tired,” he says, suddenly, loudly, bringing them out of whatever daze the tequila and exhaustion had let them fallen into.  He pulls back.  “Uhm, I—uh— I’m going to bed. You can go home if you want. Or you can stay. I—yeah— I’m going to put this up, okay?”

He begins to roll up the controllers, focusing solely on getting everything turned off and put away.

Kageyama watches.  Confused. He slowly gets up, feeling disoriented.  He looks at the time on his phone.

“It’s too late, I’ll just sleep here,” he says, then notices the way Hinata stiffens.  “If that’s still okay, I mean, if not I’ll go—”

“No, it’s fine!” Hinata whips around.  “You can have my bed.”  

“Okay.”  

He sits on Hinata’s bed awkwardly until Hinata disappears into the bathroom, then takes off his jeans and gathers up Hinata’s covers that are just as messily strewn over his bed as Kageyama’s are back in his own dorm.  He crawls under them, listening to Hinata fumble around in the bathroom before coming back out with a big t-shirt and boxers on.

He flicks off the lights and stumbles to Kenma’s bed without saying a word.

Kageyama turns with his back towards Hinata.  It feels weird being in his bed, under his sheets, especially after whatever it was that just happened.  He’s used to Hinata acting like an idiot, but tonight was somehow different, and it leaves Kageyama feeling on edge and awkward, curled under the covers that Hinata sleeps with every night.  His entire body feels like squirming, but he keeps as still as he can, heartbeat jumping all around the place when he thinks back to how serious Hinata looked staring up at him. It was like everything in the room had been vacuumed out in that moment except for him and Hinata and the smell of tequila permeating around them.  Hinata was close, really close.  Kageyama can feel his face heating up at the thought of it and stuffs his head into the pillow, then remembering it’s _Hinata’s pillow_ , heats up even more.  There was a split second when he even thought Hinata might close the space between them, with his eyes flickering down just barely to Kageyama’s mouth, but he can’t entertain the idea for more than a second without a wave of discomfort taking over him and wanting to burst into flames.

Hinata is just weird sober and weirder drinking, and he knows he’s over analyzing it and he should really should just stop thinking and go to sleep, but he can’t stop Hinata’s face from appearing in his head with his stupid golden, brown eyes and messy orange hair, looking at Kageyama like…   _Fuck._  He doesn’t even know.

He listens to Hinata’s steady breathing on the other side of the room, and eventually falls into a restless sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy all of you seem to be enjoying the fic! Thank you for all of your nice comments.
> 
> I'm going to be on vacation for the next 5 days, so updates may be a little slower than usual. I'll try and get them up ASAP though! :)

“Kenma, are you even listening to me?”  Hinata whines, flipping over onto his stomach.  He glares up at his friend who is definitely _not_ giving him the attention he deserves during this very difficult time, and mumbles into Kenma’s blankets,  “You’re a terrible friend.”

Kenma rests his feet on Hinata’s back, refusing to look up from his handheld game, and sinks himself further into the pillows on his bed.  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Anything,” Hinata sighs.  

He doesn’t expect words of encouragement, or advice, or anything that could actually help the situation.  Hinata knows Kenma is just as screwed as he is, always complaining on and on about something Kuroo’s done or said, then pining about him soon after.  Right now he just needs someone to listen who _gets_ it, because the feelings in his gut are gross and unbearable every time he thinks about the tall, grumpy guy he literally ran into two months ago.  He thinks back to the way Kageyama had glowered down at him then, how he stalked off before Hinata could even give him his full name, and has no idea just how he managed to get to this point— moping on Kenma’s bed and practically inhaling sour gummy worms as Kageyama’s stupid, admittedly attractive face fills his thoughts.  

“I don’t get why you like him.  He’s kind of scary.”

Hinata groans miserably.  “Well, I don’t get why you like _Kuroo_.”

“You wouldn’t get it,” Kenma says quietly, ears turning red.

“Whatever,” Hinata huffs. “Pass me the gummy worms.”  

Kenma throws the pack at his head and Hinata shovels in a fistful, his tongue already different colors from the first pack of gummy worms they’d gone through.  He can’t really blame Kenma for not understanding, especially when he doesn’t understand it so much himself. He only knows that at some point he had started to laugh at every glare thrown his way, realized that Kageyama wasn’t as serious as he always liked to pretend.  He noticed the awkward wobbly smile, and how he gets flustered when he’s nervous.  And then there’s the small moments, too, the ones Hinata thinks he almost misses, when Kageyama barely lifts the corners of his mouth in a smile that isn’t awkward or scary, but like in that moment he is perfectly content to be spending his time with Hinata.  And that’s when Hinata’s heart starts to jump.  

“He’s not scary,” Hinata says.

“If you say so.”

“He just likes to think he is.”

Kenma doesn’t say anything, and Hinata rubs at his face with his palms before picking out more sour gummy worms from the bag.

“And sometimes he actually smiles if you pay attention, and not in a creepy, scary way either, and he has these really nice dark blue eyes, and sometimes he pays when we go out to get steamed buns and…”  Hinata sits up, looking at his friend who’s finally paused his game.  “...I really like him, Kenma.”

“You have it bad,” he says simply, setting his game aside on the nightstand.

“You’re one to talk,” Hinata rolls his eyes, but Kenma ignores him.

“Isn’t the GSA’s Spring Formal coming up soon?”

Hinata narrows his eyes suspiciously.  “Yeah, why?”

“You should ask him to go with you.”

 _“Why would I do something stupid like that?”_  

Kenma shrugs.  “I just thought I’d suggest something.”

“Well, that’s a terrible suggestion.”  Hinata runs his hand through his hair frantically.  “I mean, what if I told you to ask Kuroo to go out with you?”

“He’d say no; there’d be no point.”

“Kenma, that guy is head over heels in love with you!” He watches Kenma’s face flush and shake his head, and it is beyond frustrating to see Kenma so convinced of himself.  

“No he isn’t.”

“He’d trip over his own feet to carry your books, it’s obvious.”

“Then why has he hooked up with more people than I can count?”  

Kenma’s voice is still quiet, but there’s a bite in it that makes Hinata back off.  He had tried convincing him more than once before, and knows it’s no use to continue now.  He sits back on his heels and doesn’t say anything, watching Kenma awkwardly shift his gaze away.

“Is there another bag of gummy worms?” he finally says, and Hinata smiles just slightly.

“Yeah.”

He sits quietly as Kenma eats all of the blue-red worms out of the bag, and wonders what Kageyama would say if he (hypothetically, very hypothetically) asked him to Spring Formal.  He’d probably stutter and turn red and then punch Hinata in the face for even suggesting it.  

Hinata pulls up his knees and holds them to his chest.  Kageyama is a stupid jerk, but he’s also tall and has nice arms and hair that never gets messy no matter how many times the wind blows through it.  He’ll probably find an equally attractive guy, someone who’s not as annoying and clingy as Hinata, who can kiss Kageyama without standing on his toes.  Hinata bites his lip and tries not to think about it too much. But there’s always the very, incredibly small, almost invisible chance that maybe Kageyama would say yes, and maybe he’d turn red and look away when he said it, and maybe Hinata would kiss him like he wanted to two days ago when Kageyama was quiet and looking at him with wide-eyes in the dim-glow of the television.  Since then he can’t stop thinking about how Kageyama’s mouth might feel like against his own, or how his hands would feel in his hair or at his waist, and there’s this glow that burns under Hinata’s skin from just wondering what Kageyama’s palm would be like pressed against his.  

His stomach feels jumbled up like he’s about to get sick, and the one and a half bags of sour gummy worms he downed earlier aren’t helping.  

“Shouyou, you’re thinking too much,” Kenma says, licking the sour dust from the gummy worms off his fingers.  

Hinata rests his head on his knees.  “This is so stupid.”

“Liking people is stupid,” Kenma agrees.  “But you can’t really help it sometimes.”  He sighs, and lays down onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.  “Even if they’re obnoxious or have a scary face or ignore you when they’re drunk and kissing everyone at the party except you…” He pauses.  “It doesn’t make sense, but maybe it’s not really suppose to.”

Hinata stays quiet for a moment before replying.  “Yeah, maybe.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like dances in fic are almost always in the context of high school, but college dances are also very much a thing that exist and I kind of wanted to explore that with this fic, so you'll see how that all ties in coming up soon. ;)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got this chapter up, I hope you guys like it! I'm going to try and keep updating as much as possible while I'm in Disney, but I really can't promise anything. Hopefully the next chapter will be up in a day or two. :)

Hinata is...different.  

To anyone else he’d probably seem the same.  He’s still loud and annoying and acts like he had several energy drinks for breakfast.  He still hangs around Kageyama and swings by his dorm on the way to class, sometimes even bringing him coffee on the days he’s feeling especially generous.  It’s almost the same, but it’s not.  

It’s been a little over a week since he slept over at Hinata’s, and Kageyama can’t figure out what’s wrong; what _he’s_ done wrong.  He can’t figure out what he did for Hinata to start subtly putting distance between them, slowly becoming less and less of the clinging annoying idiot that Kageyama has gotten to know him as.  

They walk to class with a foot between them at all times.  Hinata doesn’t try huddling into his side for warmth or playfully stealing the scarf from around his neck.  He talks to him like nothing’s wrong, but Kageyama can sense the barrier between them and thinks that this side of Hinata may be even more annoying than the one he’s used to.  

He wishes Hinata would just get over whatever the hell his problem is soon because the smile on his mouth doesn’t reach his eyes anymore and his laughs aren’t as loud as they used to be, and it makes the short winter days seem long and miserable without something to distract from its cloudy skies.

On a Monday when Hinata is nowhere to be found and ignoring his texts, Kageyama gets coffee by himself. He feels kind of sad, and kind of pathetic, but mostly it just feels like something’s missing.

* * *

He decides to go to GSA.  

The meetings are on Thursday nights and across campus, but he makes himself go anyway.  He doesn’t know if it’ll help things, if it’ll stop Hinata from being mad or upset or whatever the fuck was wrong, but he guesses he might as well try because watching Hinata become progressively distant is even more exhausting than his incessant teasing and annoying voice, and the way he doesn’t seem to understand the concept of personal space.  

It doesn’t really make sense to Kageyama that he’s setting out to _fix_ this.  He should be happy that Hinata has finally learned some basic social etiquette, but instead it just makes him uneasy.   

He scowls at the ground for the entire walk.

When he enters into the building where GSA is held, he scans the empty hallways for the door number Hinata had told him weeks and weeks ago when he first tried convincing him to join the GSA.  He soon finds the empty classroom at the other end of the building, and pauses before opening the door.  He checks the time on his phone. He’s ten minutes late. His palms sweat and he wipes them on his jeans nervously as he thinks that maybe he should just head back to his dorm and forget this whole thing.  

He’s about to do just that when two figures round the corner of the hallway and start running towards him.  Well, only one of them is running.  The other guy is held up on the first guy’s back.  He watches them wide-eyed as one of them (the one riding piggy-back) shouts something unintelligible and then, “Forward, Ryu!”

They rush forward, the guy with the shaved head grinning and picking up the pace.  The one riding piggy-back has just as wild hair as that Bokuto guy from Kuroo’s party, standing spiked up with blonde bangs and black hair.  When he spots Kageyama hanging out awkwardly by the door, he commands Ryu to halt and points to Kageyama, smiling wide.

“I know you!”

There’s a moment when Kageyama looks behind him to see who this kid could possibly talking to because he definitely did _not_ know this guy.  

“Uh, who are you?”

“Nishinoya Yuu! And you’re Kageyama, right?”  He hops off the other guy’s back who’s looking between Nishinoya and Kageyama, confused.

“How do you know…?”  Kageyama squints down at him.  He’s just as short as Hinata.

“Hinata talks about you a lot,” he says, flippantly.  “I’ve seen you guys walking together.”

“He does?” he asks, still stuck on the first part.

Nishinoya laughs.  “Yeah, it gets kind of annoying sometimes.”  He looks at the door then back at Kageyama.  “He said he was trying to get you to come to GSA.”  He smiles.  “It took you long enough.”

Kageyama absent-mindedly plays with the hem of his jacket, not sure what to think of the duo.  “Yeah, I uh— It already started— so I wasn’t sure—”

“They always start fifteen minutes late, it’s no big deal,” the other guy grins, and introduces himself as Tanaka Ryuunosuke.  Kageyama nods.

“C’mon, I’ll introduce to some people,” Nishinoya says, patting Kageyama reassuringly on the arm before pulling the door open.  

He swallows and follows Tanaka and Nishinoya into the classroom.

It’s filled with about two dozen people, some he recognizes, some he’s never seen.  He recognizes a group of girls from Kuroo’s party, the short blonde girl and tall girl in the glasses standing at the front of the room. He catches Yamaguchi sitting in the back with Tsukishima who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.  They lock eyes for a second and Tsukishima raises his eyebrows up at him amusedly.  There’s the tall blonde guy, Lev, putting out snacks and candy at the front of the room, there’s Suga and Daichi sitting in a corner with Asahi from the coffee shop, the latter of which gives a small wave to Nishinoya.  

Nishinoya bounds up to him, grinning wide.  “Asahi!  This is Kageyama.”  He turns to Kageyama who stands quietly behind him and Tanaka.  “Kageyama, this is my boyfriend, Asahi.”

The blush on Asahi’s face is very apparent when he smiles up at Kageyama and waves.  “We already know each other, Noya.”

Kageyama gives out a quiet “hey,” then notices Suga and Daichi looking up at him from the corner of his eye. Suga smiles.

“You finally made it out,” he says.  “Hinata will be glad you came.”  Suga keeps smiling in a way that makes Kageyama nervous and has him glancing away before answering.

“Yeah.”  He looks down at his shoes, wondering if that will really be the case.  “Where is he, anyway?”

“Late, probably,” Tanaka jumps in, rolling his eyes and laughing.  “But usually we’re later than he is.”

Suddenly the sound of the door shutting closed and frantic footsteps comes from behind them, and Tanaka grins.  “Ahh, there’s the shorty.”

Kageyama turns and watches the orange blur of hair hurry its way up to the front of the classroom, stuttering out apologies and waving around a folder in his hands.

“Hinata’s not just a regular member?” Kageyama asks, confused as he watches Hinata say something to the two girls up front and start going through the papers in his folder.

“He’s secretary,” Suga supplies, and Kageyama looks over at him like he’s grown another head.

“ _Secretary?_  How exactly?”

Suga laughs.  “He’s actually good at his job, believe it or not.”

Kageyama looks back over at Hinata. He has his back towards him and is waving around his hands in a way that Kageyama knows means that he’s trying to explain something he’s excited about.  It makes him crack a smile. _Dumbass._

Everyone in the room starts taking seats and Kageyama settles himself in a desk towards the back beside Nishinoya and Tanaka.  He watches Hinata fumble around with the several papers he’s holding and wonders how long it’ll take the idiot to notice he’s there. Hinata runs a hand through his hair like he’s flustered, then looks up at the tall girl and nods.

The tall girl smiles, introduces herself as Kiyoko, and begins speaking, welcoming them all to GSA, or something to that effect.  Kageyama’s attention fades quickly, glancing back over to Hinata who seems to have calmed down now.  His cheeks are dusted pink, probably from running to the meeting, and his hair keeps falling into his face. He really needs a haircut, Kageyama thinks.

He doesn’t realize he’s been staring until Hinata looks up from whatever he was writing and their eyes meet.  Hinata blinks, staring back at him a moment longer before hurriedly returning his eyes back to the paper in front of him.  There’s a smile on his face now that Kageyama just barely catches, and it makes his breathing stop.

_What the fuck was that about?_

Kageyama breathes out, forcing his gaze to the other girl now speaking.  She’s blonde and short, and is going on about something called “Spring Formal” that will supposedly take place at the end of the month.  Kageyama thinks it sounds absolutely horrific.  

“So with that!” she says, “Hinata will take suggestions for what the theme should be for Spring Formal this year!”  She smiles at Hinata.  

“Zombie Apocalypse!” Tanaka shouts.

Everyone laughs and Hinata writes it down.  “Well _I_ think that’s a great idea, but I don’t know if the President will go for it.”  Hinata glances back at Kiyoko and there’s a small smile on her lips, but she shakes her head no.

“Awhh, c’mon Kiyoko!”  Tanaka pouts.  “Well I’m out of ideas.  How ‘bout you, Noya-san?”

“How about ninja warriors!” Nishinoya suggests.

“Oooh, good one, Noya-san,” Hinata says enthusiastically like he’s completely in awe of Nishinoya’s idea, and writes it down.

Kageyama rolls his eyes and has to physically restrain himself from muttering “idiot.”  

He watches Hinata continue to take suggestions, some better than others.  He watches him laugh fully, smiles splitting his face, and realizes he hasn’t seen Hinata that genuinely happy in almost two weeks. He watches the spark in his golden brown eyes and watches the way Hinata talks with his hands to an alarming degree.  Hinata is so full of energy compared to himself, sometimes Kageyama doesn’t know how he keeps up with the guy.  He’s like sunlight poking through the clouds wherever he goes, melting the ice on the sidewalks.  

Their eyes meet for a second time, and Kageyama feels something shift like gears turning in his head or his heart being jump started as Hinata smiles at him from across the room, and _oh._  It comes all at once, filling him up to the brim, and he feels like he could drown in that moment, Hinata staring at him softly while every memory of them together is pouring back into him.  He bites his lower lip and breaks eye contact, wondering just where along the way he had started to feel anything other than annoyance towards Hinata Shouyou.  Because now he’s at a damn GSA meeting about ready to pass out at the way Hinata smiles at him, and he’s realizing that he’s in _deep._  He’s in so deep for the best friend he’s ever had and it’s going to fucking kill him probably.

Kageyama closes his eyes and silently curses himself for having a stupid crush on annoying, idiot, dumbass, Hinata Shouyou.  

* * *

When the meeting is over and everyone is saying their “goodbyes” and “I’ll see you next weeks,” Hinata walks up to him with a smile that could bring the sun out from hiding, and Kageyama braces himself.

“You actually came?” Hinata says like a question.

“Of course I did, stupid.”  He feels suddenly self aware of every bone in his body, every joint in his fingers, and hates the new nervousness that seems to invade him.

“Thanks.”  He ignores the insult and looks at his feet.  “For coming, I mean.”

“You never told me you were secretary,” Kageyama pushes his shoulder, lightly, teasingly.  “How the hell did you manage that, dumbass?”

Hinata rolls his eyes.  “Asshole,” he mutters.  “I am capable of doing _some_ things, believe it or not.”  

The loud conversations in the room start to trail away as people start to empty out, and Hinata tilts his head to the door.  

“Uh, we only have this room until 8:30 so—”  Hinata presses his lips together.  “I’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

Kageyama nods, his heart pounding.  “Okay.”

It should be familiar.  Normal.  But Hinata keeps dragging his eyes over to him with every few steps and it’s already hard to breathe in the freezing, night air.  The usual banter dies away within the first few minutes, and they quietly walk with a foot between them at all times that both has Kageyama thankful and on edge; thankful because if Hinata were any closer he might combust, and on edge because Hinata obviously still hasn’t gotten over whatever had made him keep his distance in the first place.

It eats up at him as they walk.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Hinata stops, furrowing his eyebrows like he genuinely has no idea what he’s talking about, and Kageyama begins to second-guess himself.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he gestures vaguely to the space between them, and swallows, “you’ve been acting different.”

“I don’t—” Hinata fidgets, eyes widening.  “What?”

“I don’t know—just—you’re not acting like you,” he breathes.  “Which should be fucking great, but it’s even more annoying than before.” He shoves his fists in his pockets, and continues walking, leaving Hinata looking dazed.

It takes a second for Hinata to catch up, and Kageyama can’t tell if his face is red from the cold or something else, but it’s...cute; and he can’t believe he just thought Hinata is _cute_ , but there it is.  Kageyama thinks Hinata is fucking cute, and he’s absolutely doomed.

Hinata sidles up beside Kageyama, looking down at the sidewalk like he’s choosing his words carefully to say next.  “I’ve just been kind of stressed out, lately.”  He shrugs.  “It’s no big deal.”

He smiles, and Kageyama knows he’s lying through his teeth.

“Yeah, whatever.”  

There’s a second he wants to call Hinata out, but he lets it go, walking forward.  He can see from the corner of his eye that Hinata’s arms are crossed over his chest, his hands rubbing up and down them to keep himself warm, and Kageyama sighs, unwrapping the scarf from around his neck without really thinking much about it.

“Just stop being a dumbass and avoiding me all the time,” he says, draping his scarf around Hinata’s neck.  “And dress warmer, idiot.”

“Shut up,” he mumbles into the green fabric, wrapping the scarf tighter around him.

Kageyama snorts.

Their arms brush against each other and he wonders when Hinata had closed the remaining space between them.  His chest warms up even in the cold night as their elbows bump every few steps, and he tries to act as indifferent as possible with his heart racing like mad.

And as he watches Hinata’s breath fog into the air, his hair glowing under the passing streetlamps, he realizes that being around Hinata is kind of like thawing out in the sun.  

It’s quiet for a while, but Kageyama doesn’t mind; he’s not really sure what to say, anyway.  They walk past the closed coffee shop, and the fountain in the middle of campus, their crow mascot perched in the center of it, and the moon overhead is blocked by clouds, but paints everything in a scattered light, softly illuminating the deserted campus in front of them. It would be calming if he weren’t hyper-aware of the guy walking beside him.

When they begin to near his dorm, their feet seem to slow, Hinata’s leisurely pace so different than the usual ball of energy that races him across campus.  Hinata keeps glancing at him like he wants to say something, but then changes his mind and looks away.  It happens at least five times before Kageyama can’t take it anymore.

“What?” Kageyama catches his eye.  “Why do you keep looking at me?”

“I’m not looking at you,” Hinata denies.

“You are literally looking at me right now.”  

Hinata groans.  “I don’t know, Bakageyama, maybe it’s because you’re so ugly.”  

He glares, and Hinata backs away a little, raising his hands up in surrender.  

“I’m kidding!” he laughs, and it sounds genuine this time.  

They round the corner to Kageyama’s dorm and Hinata’s laughter begins to fade; it takes Kageyama a few steps to realize that Hinata’s stopped walking.  He has his face pointed towards the sky, mouth open slightly, and there’s a gleam in his eyes that makes Kageyama’s heart stop.

“You okay?” he asks, trying not to stare at him.  

Hinata brings his hands up, palms pointed towards the clouds.  “It’s snowing,” he smiles.

Kageyama follows Hinata’s gaze, and sure enough there’s snow floating softly down, dusting their clothes and collecting in Hinata’s hair.  He watches Hinata grin at the sky, sticking out his tongue and laughing like a kid.  

“What are you doing, dumbass?” he says, but it comes out quiet, almost fond, and he can’t help the way his chest swells at the sight in front of him.

 _“Twy-ing to catchth a snowthlake,”_ he responds, tongue still out and grinning wide.

Kageyama tries his best not to smile, but sometimes his best isn’t enough.  “You’re such a kid.”  

He lets Hinata have his moment; he couldn’t stop him even if he had wanted to.  Hinata lets the cold frost speckle his face, and the winter night fall over him gladly.  His nose and cheeks are bitten red, but he doesn’t seem to mind.  Kageyama watches him glow as the snow starts to melt in his hair.

“Kageyama?” he says, finally looking down from the sky, and peering up at Kageyama intently.  

The way Hinata has his eyes set makes Kageyama want to back away.  He shifts uncomfortably and digs his hands further into his pockets instead.

“What?”

“I was...uhm…” Hinata breathes.  “I was just thinking maybe…”

Kageyama feels his stomach whirl.   “Maybe what?”  

 _“thatwecouldgotospringformaltogether?”_ Hinata splutters out all at once.

He says it so fast that it takes a moment for Kageyama to actually grasp what he’s asking, and when he does he feels like he’s been punched in the gut.   _What?_  He stares at Hinata who’s starting to shrink in on himself.  He tries to say something, anything, but no words come to mind and his mouth stays frozen, open slightly in shock.   _Yes_ , he wants to say. _Yes, obviously._  And then he think, _as a date?  Was Hinata really standing here and asking him out on a date?_  He wants to reach out to Hinata who’s starting to back away slowly, but his arms hang useless at his sides, and before he can say anything, Hinata fake smiles and cuts back in.

“As friends, I mean!” he adds.  “It would look kind of stupid if I showed up to my own dance alone, y’know?  So I was thinking we could go as friends, and then Kuroo said he’d have a party afterwards so...uhm.  I understand if you don’t want to go!  It’s probably going to be pretty lame, honestly.”  He scratches the back of his neck and presses his lips together, not meeting Kageyama’s eyes.  

_Oh._

_As friends._

_Of course._

He exhales.  “Yeah, I’ll go with you, idiot, dumbass, Hinata.”

“Good!” he says, letting out a long breath.  “Great!” It takes a second before he glares.  “Did you just call me an ‘idiot dumbass’?”

“I couldn’t decide which one to use,” he shrugs, turning on his heel and starting to walk again.  

He really should have seen it coming.  Of course Hinata only wanted to be friends. It shouldn’t be surprising. It shouldn’t make him want to slam the door to his dorm and throw himself into bed. It shouldn’t make his heart drop into his stomach.  He hates this.  He wishes he hated Hinata as much as he did when they first met, when Hinata barreled into him and spilled hot coffee all over his chest.  But now Hinata walks in step with him, nose buried in his scarf, and Kageyama is melting.

“Your scarf?” Hinata asks, brow raised, when they’ve reached Kageyama’s door.  

“You still have to walk to your dorm, keep it.”  

Hinata looks at him like he’s unsure, twiddling the material in his fingers.

“Really, Don’t worry about it.  Just give it back later.”  He wraps the scarf once more around his neck.  The dumbass will catch a cold if he isn’t careful.  “And don’t go playing in the snow like an idiot, you’ll get sick, go back to your dorm.”

“You sound like my mom,” Hinata laughs, dodging Kageyama’s grasp at the last second.

_“Oh my God, leave before I change my mind.”_

Hinata takes the advice, skipping away with a grin on his face and Kageyama’s scarf around his neck.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is pretty long + I'm out of town, so it may not be up until the weekend! I hope this chapter ties you guys over until then. I loved writing this part!
> 
> Again, thank all of you for your sweet comments, I really love reading through all of them. :')

_That guy is head over heels in love with you._

Kenma shrugs his hoodie over his head as he walks to Kuroo’s apartment in the setting sun, the air cooling by the second. Hinata’s words keep coming back to him no matter how much he tries to hold them back, and it comes with a hopeful twinge in the center of his chest.  

He knows it’s dangerous.  To be hopeful.  He’s spent years keeping the feeling safely tucked away in old memories and conversations, letting it live in the past.  He learned to stop being hopeful when Kuroo got his first girlfriend in middle school, and was reminded again three years later when Kuroo kissed his first boy.  Sometimes Kuroo looks at him like he holds the world in his hands, and sometimes Kenma thinks _maybe_ , but then he’s usually off with another guy by the end of the night, and he’s falling asleep in someone else’s bed that’s never his.  He doesn’t know why he’s let this crush on his best friend linger on since they were kids. It’s almost become a part of his own self, something so second-nature that he doesn’t always think about it.  Loving Kuroo is something that just is.

He closes his eyes and breathes before knocking on Kuroo’s door.  

The door swings open and Kuroo smirks down at him, his hair a mess and sporting track pants and a loose t-shirt.  Kenma’s heartbeat quickens just a little.  It’s been awhile since it’s done that.  He blames it on Hinata.  He blames it on the hope that Hinata put in his chest.

“Skipping GSA again?  Hinata’s gonna be mad at you,” Kuroo raises an eyebrow as Kenma walks past him into the living room.

“I don’t care,”  Kenma shrugs, making himself comfortable on the couch and sitting on his legs.  “Where’s Bokuto?”

“Out.” Kuroo drops down beside him.  “Akaashi’s probably.”  

Kenma takes his DS out of his jacket pocket and flips it open.  He doesn’t remember the last game he put in it, but it doesn’t matter; he just needs something to distract himself.  Kuroo curls in closer to him, leaning into his side with absolutely no regard for personal space. But Kenma’s used to it.  Kuroo’s always needed attention like a lonely cat.  

“He should really just move out already. He spends so much time at Akaashi’s, anyway.”  Kuroo laughs to himself.

“Hmmm,” Kenma hums, trying to ignore the warmth that spreads through him when Kuroo drops his head onto his shoulder.  “But then who would want to live with you?”  

He means it as a jibe, but Kuroo doesn’t laugh.  He doesn’t say anything at all.

Kenma glances at the boy curled into his side, and notices his face is slightly pink.

“Maybe,” Kuroo says, poking him in the waist.  “We could…”  He toys with the fabric of Kenma’s jacket.  “Y’know, live together next year?”

There’s a short circuit in Kenma’s brain; he wasn’t expecting that.  

“Did you just ask me to move in with you?”  Kenma asks, pausing and muting his game to make sure he’s heard right.

“I mean, _yeah,_ it’d make sense, right?  Why not?”

“Why not?” Kenma repeats to himself, quietly.  He stares at the wall opposite him.  “I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Kuroo says, just as quiet.  “Just think about it.”

It’s little moments like these that remind him how quiet Kuroo can be.  He thinks back to hot summers, draped over each other beneath the squeaking ceiling fan, mumbling about their hopes for cooler weather; rainy days when he and Kuroo would play video games from the bed with the sound of raindrops enough to lull Kuroo asleep; and more recently, Kuroo lighting his first joint, sitting cross-legged on Kuroo’s bed and shyly breathing in smoke as Kuroo watched in silence, only laughing slightly and handing him water when he inevitably started coughing.  This is how he fell in love with Kuroo Tetsurou, in their quiet moments tucked away.

“I’ll think about it,” he promises.  

It’s impossible to focus on his game anymore, so he saves the very little progress he’s made and stuffs the DS back into his jacket pocket.  Kuroo doesn’t move from his position and Kenma makes no effort to push him away.  Living with Kuroo is a weird thought, but not unpleasant.  He wonders if it’s possible to live with someone you’re in love with; especially when you’re pretty sure they don’t love you back.  He wonders how much longer he can pretend not to be in love with Kuroo.  Some days he feels like he could pretend forever, and other days feel like the words are begging to finally be let from his mouth.  

But then there’s so much of Kuroo that feels like home already, and would it really be that different if they were living together? Would it really be so different than now?

“You tired?” Kuroo asks, glancing down to where Kenma’s put his game away.  He frowns like he’s concerned.

Kenma lets himself lean his full weight back against Kuroo.  “Yeah,” he lies.

“That’s weird.”

“What’s weird?”

Kuroo’s frown deepens.  “Usually you’re up until the ass crack of dawn.  You feeling okay?”

He tries to will himself not to blush, but he can feel his face heating up as Kuroo places both hands on either side of his cheeks.  Kuroo leaves them there for a moment before resting the back of his hand on Kenma’s forehead.  Kuroo was always a worrier.  Once when they were seven, Kuroo had put twelve band-aids all over his legs when he’d scraped his knee on the sidewalk.

“You worry too much.”

“Who’s going to worry over your ass if I don’t?” he laughs, finally pulling his hands away, looking a little flushed himself.  

He carefully removes himself from Kenma, and Kenma snuggles back into the couch cushions, watching Kuroo walk across the apartment to the kitchen.  He comes back with a bottle of water a second later and hands it to him.

“You want anything else?”

Kenma twists the cap open with a snap. “No.  Thanks.”  He takes a sip as Kuroo settles back next to him, this time grabbing for the remote control and turning on the television. His arm drapes over Kenma’s shoulders, and Kenma can’t help but sink back into it as Kuroo lazily flips through the television channels.

It’s easy to imagine this being a daily routine if they lived together.  He wonders what Bokuto and Kuroo’s daily routines are, if they have any.

“Wouldn’t you miss Bokuto?”

“Huh?” Kuroo flips his head around, caught off guard.

“If he moves out, I mean,” Kenma clarifies.

 _“Oh.”_  He shrugs.  “Well, yeah, but I’d have you,” he smiles.  “And me and Bokuto would still see each other, it’s no big deal.”

“But all the parties…”

Kuroo sighs.  “It doesn’t matter that you’re not like Bokuto, you know that, right?”  He takes Kenma’s hair into his hand, curling it around his fingers gently.

“I know.”  Kenma stares at the boring, procedural cop show on the TV screen.

“Bokuto’s my best-bro, but you’re my…”  Kuroo pauses, fumbling for words  “We’re…”  

Kenma looks over at him, and Kuroo’s body shifts, his eyes looking anywhere but at Kenma.  It makes the breath catch in Kenma’s throat.

“What?  We’re what?” Kenma demands.  But he gets it.  He gets that there aren’t really words for what they are anymore.

An awkward laugh escapes Kuroo’s mouth and he shrugs.  “We’re just different,” is all he says, going back to playing with Kenma’s hair.  “Are you ever going to re-bleach this?”

Kenma shrugs.  

“I’ll help you with it next time if you want.”

“Okay.”  

They become quiet for a while, eyes on the television and neither of them really watching that closely.  Kenma can feel Kuroo’s eyes on the side of his face every few minutes, and it takes all of his strength to pretend he doesn’t notice.  He bites his lip, hating the feeling bubbling up inside of him, rising in his chest.  

“You staying the night?”

Kenma nods, pulling his knees up to his chest and letting his head droop back on Kuroo’s shoulder.  He usually isn’t the one to initiate any kind of affection, but there’s something different about tonight. Kuroo is staring more than usual, and carding his fingers through his hair a little gentler, and there was the way Kuroo’s cheeks had flushed when he asked him to live with him, and it’s all making Kenma think stupid thoughts and feel stupid things. He presses his face into Kuroo’s shirt, and Kuroo pauses his movements for just a moment before there’s a hand on Kenma’s back rubbing in circles along his spine.

“Kenma,” he says, just above a whisper.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles into Kuroo’s black t-shirt. _Just getting hopeful again._

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally finished editing this!! Sorry this is up a bit later than my usual updates, but hopefully this 9k chapter will make up for it. :)
> 
> Thank you guys so much for all of the comments/kudos/bookmarks, I really never expected all of this! Definitely feel free to come say hey on twitter(PeppermintWind) or tumblr (peppermintwind.tumblr.com) if ya want. I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Kageyama’s pretty sure that March is the most mentally exhausting month of his life.  There’s the piling schoolwork, the looming of midterms, the GSA’s dance that he’d already promised Hinata he’d go to, and then there’s just Hinata in _general._

Even thinking about Hinata is exhausting, keeping him up at night and making him drift off in the middle of class.  If he fails this semester, he’s blaming it entirely on Hinata; on golden-brown eyes and a smile that could set him on fire.  

It’s weird liking someone.  There’s a completely unfamiliar feeling that takes over his chest.  It makes his face warm and breathing shallow and heart twinge, and a myriad of other ridiculous things when Hinata so much as bumps into him.  He kind of hates it, but it’s...exciting.  The way his skin jolts when Hinata brushes his arm is as annoying as it is addicting, and he can’t believe it took twenty years, a sexuality crisis, and a head of orange hair to make him finally feel what everyone had been talking about.  Finally he gets it because finally there’s another option, an option that didn’t exist in high school or his first year of college, an option that was so far removed from his mind that he hadn’t even considered it until Kuroo’s party when Being Gay stopped being an abstract thought that only “other” people could possibly be.  Kageyama Tobio is fucking gay, and now for some reason that only God knows, he’s gay for this idiot named Hinata Shouyou.

It’s an understatement to say that it’s been an eventful Spring semester.

Kageyama lays awake in bed, listening to Tsukishima getting ready to go out— probably to see Yamaguchi— and wonders how much longer he can stay beneath the blankets without hating himself too much.

“It’s noon,” comes Tsukishima’s irritated voice from somewhere above him.

“Your point?”  Kageyama finally flickers his eyes open to the sunlight-drenched room and glares.

“You should get your lazy ass out of bed is my point.”  He throws some things in a messenger bag and hangs it over his shoulder.  “You’re not hanging out with your boyfriend today?” he asks, sneering.  

Kageyama’s heart jumps. _“What?”_

“You know,” Tsukishima smirks, “You’re boyfriend— orange hair, about yea high.” He holds up a hand level with his waist.  

“We’re just friends, asshole,” he answers, but he hates the way it sounds in his mouth.  It makes him want to crawl back under the covers until the sunlight is gone.

Tsukishima laughs, and Kageyama wants to punch the grin right off his face.  “I heard you guys were going to the GSA dance together.”  He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

“Yeah, _as friends_ ,” he practically growls, wishing he were lying. “How did you even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Tsukishima says, still grinning.  “Either way, I look forward to what outfit you decide to wear.  Do you even own a tie?”

Kageyama stares at him blankly.  “...A tie?”  Shit.

“ _Yes_ , a _tie_ , people wear them to formal events. And in case you didn’t know, Spring _Formal_ is, in fact, a formal event.”

Shit. _Shit_.  “Can’t I just borrow your—”

“No,” Tsukishima cuts him off.

_“Why not?”_

“Because I don’t want to,” he says, simply.  “But I suggest you find _something_ to wear before next week.”

Kageyama sits up at that.  “Next week?  You said, next week?”

“Yes, next week,” Tsukishima sighs, running a hand over his face as he starts walking to the door.  “Honestly, don’t you even know when your own date is?”

“It’s not—!”  

But Tsukishima’s already slammed the door and is gone.

* * *

Kageyama panics.

The dance is next week, exactly five days and three hours away, and Hinata will swing by his dorm in exactly five days and two-and-a-half hours to walk him there. He manages to get his ass out of bed after this realization, quickly finding himself walking over to Karasuno Coffee with only a half-formed idea in his head about what exactly he’s going to say when he gets there.  He just needs advice. And clothes.  He hopes to God that Suga is working.

He is.

Kageyama breathes out in relief at the sight of Suga behind the counter, not entirely sure why he’s the first he thought of coming to mid-panic.  He guesses it must be because of Suga’s kind face, how he’s like a parent to most of the GSA members, or maybe it’s just the way he seems to know more than he lets on, always looking at him and Hinata with raised eyebrows and a twinkle in his eye.  

“Hey, Kageyama,” he says, smoothly. “Where’s—?”

“Can I talk to you?” Kageyama cuts off, abruptly.   

Suga stops, surprised, turning around slowly and muttering something to Asahi behind him before he turns back and nods.  He has his eyebrows raised and mouth slightly open like he isn’t sure what Kageyama could possibly want from him, or maybe it’s just that he never expected Kageyama to come in the first place.

“Sure, of course,” he says, softly.  Suga exits behind the counter and leads Kageyama to the far corner of the room.  Thankfully it’s pretty deserted on Sunday evening.

They settle into worn-out chairs, Suga leaning over the table in the middle with his hands folded over each other.  He looks at Kageyama like he’s trying to pull the information from him without even asking, and Kageyama shifts in his seat looking steadily at the floor.

Eventually, Suga sighs.  “Is this about Hinata?”

 _“What? No_ ,” Kageyama starts. _“I mean, yeah.”_ He pauses, finally bringing his eyes up to Suga and staring. “Wait, what?”  

Suga laughs good-naturedly.  

“How did you— How in the hell—?”

“Daichi says I’m good at reading people,” Suga smiles.  “So…” he trails off.  “What exactly is the problem?”

“There— There’s not a problem,” Kageyama chokes out, still surprised.   _Is he really that obvious?_  He breathes out through his nose, trying to gather his thoughts together.  “I just don’t have a lot of experience with these things.”

“With what things?”

“Dances,” he admits, throwing a hand over his face.  “I don’t even have any formal clothes with me at school, and I already promised Hinata that I’d go.”

“You can borrow some of mine. I think they’d fit.”

“You really don’t have to…”

“No, please!  I don’t mind at all.”  Suga smiles warmly, the kind that makes his dimples show.  “I just want you to have a good time.  Daichi and I aren’t going this year, anyway.”

“Huh?  Why?”  

He laughs again. “Because last year I felt like a chaperone.”  He shrugs.  “I’ll go through some things and find something nice for you, something Hinata will think is handsome.” Suga winks.

Kageyama’s breathing stops, mortified.  He can feel his face heating as Suga continues to smile at him, grinning like he’s hit the fucking bullseye.  It takes a moment for Kageyama to compose himself and remember to breathe.  He’s starting to wonder if coming to Suga for advice was a terrible idea, but then he remembers that the dance is on Friday and Hinata will show up at his dorm with that light in his eyes, and it makes Kageyama’s stomach twist.  In five days he’ll go to a dance with his best friend and have to pretend that he doesn’t want to be more than just that.  He’s really unprepared.  

“I don’t think you could get _Hinata_ to think I look handsome. He tells me my face looks like the spawn of Satan almost every day,” Kageyama finally says.  He rests his head in the palms of his hands.  

“I think you’d be surprised.”  He smiles mysteriously.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Suga leans back into the chair, staring at Kageyama in a way that makes him self-conscious, like he can read everything Kageyama is thinking.  “Kageyama…” he starts, softly. “Hinata likes you more than you think he does.”

“Huh? No. What are you even talking about?” Kageyama splutters back at him.  “That’s— That’s not even—”  He looks down at the table.  “He said he wanted to go to the dance as friends, anyway. I don’t see how he could possibly—”

“Sometimes people say things they don’t mean when they’re scared.”

“ _Yeah_ , but—but this isn’t—”  Kageyama looks behind him to an empty coffee shop, then turn back and continues in a lower voice.  “How could Hinata possibly like someone like me?”

It’s impossible, he knows it is.  He’s too awkward and angry, his eyebrows always pinch together in a perpetual scowl, and the dark circles under his eyes make it look like he hasn’t slept for days; and lately he hasn’t been.  He can’t smile without looking like a fucking demon, and that’s according to Hinata himself. If Hinata is light, then he’s the shadow, throwing everything into darkness and making everything as miserable as he is. He doesn’t understand why someone like Hinata, who is full of so much life, can stand to even hang around someone so boring.  It really is a mystery to Kageyama, but if he’s sure of one fucking thing, it’s that Hinata doesn’t like him, will never like him, at least like _that._  

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

The way Suga says it with a soft voice and small smile makes Kageyama blush.

“You should see the way he looks at you.  It reminds me of how I used to look at Daichi, really.”

“Shut up,” he mutters.  His chest tightens.

“I mean it.  He doesn’t look at other people like he looks at you.  It’s like he’s glowing.”

Kageyama doesn’t say anything, rolling his eyes at Suga’s words, but feeling his face grow warmer and warmer.

“You really like him,” Suga says.

It isn’t a question, but Kageyama feels compelled to answer anyway, if only to confirm it with someone that isn’t himself.   “Yeah,” he says quietly.  He swallows and nods.

“Then you need to let him know.”

“How the hell am I suppose to do that?”  He looks up, suddenly angry.

“Just act like it’s a date on Friday.”

Kageyama stares at him, frowning. “I’ve never been on a date in my life.”

“Then just be nice to him,” Suga sighs, propping his chin up with his hand.  “I can tell by the way he exists around you, Kageyama, he likes you.  You don’t need to worry so much.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he mumbles, and Suga laughs.

“You know, it took me three years to confess to Daichi,” he admits.

“Really?”

Suga nods.  “Mhmm, I almost didn’t tell him at all.” He pauses. “But I did, and now I’m here.”

He looks off to the side like he’s recalling a memory, smiling to himself, and Kageyama watches as a faint pink glow spreads across his cheeks.

“It was a really good decision,” Suga almost giggles, his phone vibrating on the table.  Kageyama can see Daichi’s name light up on the screen, and Suga laughs a little harder.  “I can’t believe it sometimes.”

Kageyama breathes as Suga texts Daichi back a reply.  He never planned for any of this to happen.  He never wanted to like guys, to like Hinata.  The thought to confess to Hinata never seriously crossed his mind, waving the idea away when he remembered it was pointless.  But Suga acts so confident, like he knows something Kageyama doesn’t, and it makes Kageyama want to scream.  

The door to the coffee shop opens, bringing in a gust of cool air and a customer, and Suga looks over at Kageyama apologetically before standing up.  He puts a hand on Kageyama’s shoulder and gives him a small smile.  

“Look, all I’m saying is that it’s worth it.”

He bites his lip and turns away, leaving Kageyama to stare out the window, just as confused and tired as before.

* * *

“This looks stupid.  I look stupid.”  Kageyama frantically messes with his tie in front of the bathroom mirror while Tsukishima laughs quietly behind him.

“Calm down.”

“I am calm!”

Tsukishima raises his hands up in surrender with a ghost of a smile still on his face.  He grabs Kageyama by the shoulder and spins him around, looking down at the knot in Kageyama’s tie like he’s personally offended by it.

“You are so hopeless,” he says, taking each end of the tie in his hands and tying it properly.  “Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to do this?”

“Shut up,” he huffs, then looks down at the neatly tied knot and turns back around to the mirror before adding, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”  Tsukishima rolls his eyes.

“You’re in a good mood,” Kageyama notices, squinting his eyes at Tsukishima through the mirror.

He doesn’t answer for a moment, threading his hands through his hair until it’s to his standards. “Am I?”

“Yeah, it’s creeping me out.”

Kageyama pushes away from the bathroom counter and walks to his side of the room, fumbling around for the pair of dress shoes that are somewhere beneath his bed.  His hand brushes over leathery material, and he pulls out the shoes, hurriedly slipping them on as he looks at the time on his phone.  He glances back up at Tsukishima who’s now experimenting with the top buttons of his shirt, his bottom lip bit between his teeth as he re-buttons the top button for the fifth time.

“Getting lucky with Yamaguchi tonight?” he snorts.

Tsukishima shoots him a look, but the tips of his ears turn red.  “That’s definitely none of your business,” he says, deciding to leave the top button unbuttoned and smoothing out the front of his collared shirt.  “Weren’t you the one who was about to puke two minutes ago?  Are you that nervous about just going on a date?”

“I told you it’s not a date,” Kageyama mumbles, checking and double-checking that he has his keys and phone, that his shoes are tied, and his shirt is buttoned properly.  He looks at the time on his phone for the tenth time in the last minute.

“Maybe not, but you want it to be.”

Kageyama only has time to stare angrily before there’s a knock on the door.  

Tsukishima smirks.  “You going to get that?”

He takes one more look in the mirror, ignoring Tsukishima’s laughter, and exhales.  He can feel his heartbeat jumping in his throat, his palms already sweating as he moves away from the mirror and toward the door, opening it in one swift motion like ripping off a bandaid.  

“Hey.”  Hinata smiles wide, his eyes big and staring up at Kageyama with a brightness that shouldn’t be physically possible.

He feels like his brain has been temporarily shut down as he lets his eyes travel from Hinata’s face down to his suit that’s just slightly too big with his pants bunching up at the ankles.  He knows if it had been anyone else that he would've thought it looked stupid, but because it’s Hinata it just ends up being kind of endearing instead.  He trails his eyes back up.  Hinata’s hair still doesn’t lie flat, but it looks like he’s actually tried to brush it out, and his hands are buried in his navy coat pockets like he isn’t sure what else to do with them.   There’s a scarf hanging loosely around his neck, and Kageyama blinks when he recognizing the dark green pattern that covers it.  He’d forgotten about his missing scarf the past few weeks; the weather turning progressively warmer after the last snowfall of winter.

“Uh—”

“Usually people say ‘hi’ back!” Tsukishima calls from within the room.

“Hi,” Kageyama says automatically.  “You look—uhm—you look—”  He remembers to breathe.  “Nice.”

Hinata smiles at his shoes.  “You too.”

“Ugh, gross.”  Tsukishima appears behind Kageyama with narrowed eyes.  “Can you two stop flirting and leave.”

Kageyama glares with all of the intensity he can gather as Hinata laughs awkwardly, his hands digging further into his pockets.

“We should go,” he says.  “I need to help set up.”

“Okay,” Kageyama nods, sending one last pointed look at Tsukishima who only smirks widely in return.

“Have fun, kids.”

Kageyama shoots him the middle finger on his way out the door.

They walk together in silence for the first couple of minutes, Hinata with his eyes trained on the sidewalk.  Every time Kageyama glances down at him, he forgets to breathe, hating how admittedly attractive Hinata looks with his tie loose and his hair still a mess.  

The days are getting longer now and the sun is just starting to set behind them, covering the campus in an orange glow that reminds him of Hinata’s hair. Lately it seems he can’t go ten minutes without something reminding him of Hinata.   The few clouds streak the sky in pale pink and lavender. The pink in the sky matches the color rising in Hinata’s cheeks, and eventually Hinata turns to him, his hands wrapped around the scarf on his shoulders.

“I forgot to give this back,” he says, clutching the scarf tighter in his fingers.

“It’s fine, you can wear it tonight,” Kageyama replies without really thinking.  “It looks good on you.”

Hinata’s lips turn into a thin line.  “Okay.” His hands don’t leave the scarf, twirling it in his fingers like a nervous habit.  “Are you going to Kuroo’s after?”

He wishes they were going to Kuroo’s _first_ , already wanting to feel numb with alcohol, for his nerves to float away with each sip from a red plastic cup.  The promise of being drunk in a few hours will be the only thing that gets him through this night.

“Yeah, you?”

“Mhmm!” He smiles.  “I’ll make sure you don’t drink so much this time,” he laughs quietly, bumping into Kageyama’s side with his own.

“Ugh,” Kageyama groans, remembering distinctly the dizziness in the air as he sat on the cold, tile bathroom floor.  “Don’t remind me.”

“That was the first time we hung out.”  Hinata looks at the quickly approaching night sky.  “That’s so weird.”

“What’s weird?  That the first time we hung out you were watching me puke my guts out, or the fact that I still haven’t gotten sick of you over the last few months?” He jokes.

“Both I guess,” Hinata shrugs, and Kageyama’s teasing smile fades.

He wants to reach out to him, to put a hand in his hair and reassure him that _that would never happen dumbass_ , but his hand only raises slightly before falling limp at his side.  

“I hope someone brings strawberry tequila tonight,” Hinata says before Kageyama can do anything stupid.  

“What?”

“Tequila Rose. It’s my favorite. It’s kind of like strawberry milk, except it’s tequila.”

“That sounds disgusting.”

It’s not!” Hinata laughs. “I’ll make you try it.”

“No thanks.” Kageyama grimaces.  

“You’re never any fun,” he teases, poking him in the side and looking up at him with those eyes that make Kageyama’s mind go blank.  

“I have fun.”

“You’re frowning,” Hinata points out.

“I can’t help it, it’s just my face.”

“Mhmm, whatever, Kageyama. I’m still going to get you to try strawberry tequila tonight.”

“I will literally throw up on you”

“Ew,” Hinata squints his eyes as if he’s imagining in. “I don’t doubt it.”

Their destination finally comes into view, and Hinata pushes the double-doors open with a bounce in his step.  He follows Hinata through the maze of hallways until he can hear a couple of voices coming from the room ahead.  There’s a giant poster with rainbow lettering beside the doorway that opens into a large room with dimmed lights and scattered balloons across the floor, and he can see the GSA’s president and vice president frantically moving things into place.  

“You’re late,” Kiyoko says. She throws a pack of balloons to Hinata.  “Blow up some more balloons.”

“You got it!”  He rips open the pack, then surveys the rest of the room and furrows his eyebrows.  “Where’s Kuroo? Doesn’t he have the music?”

Kiyoko barely glances up from the checklist in her hands. “Whose idea was it to trust Kuroo?” She sighs and turns to the other girl.  “Is all of the food out, Hitoka?”

The small girl nods, transferring bottles of sodas out from a grocery bag and onto the table lining the wall.  Kageyama just now notices it, lined with chips and dip, candy and cake, and a myriad of other junk foods set upon a cheap tablecloth with dolphins on it. The final theme decision had been “Under the Sea,” much to Tanaka and Nishinoya’s disappointment.  He goes to sit next to Hinata who’s now blowing up green and blue balloons at one of the several round tables that take over the room.  Or at least, he’s trying to blow up balloons.  The balloon in his mouth stays a quarter blown as Hinata’s face progressively turns redder and the balloon doesn’t get any bigger.  Kageyama cracks a smile.

“Having trouble?”

Hinata glares, balloon wobbling between his lips. He attempts several more times before taking it out from his mouth and letting the small amount of air inside escape with a look of defeat on his face.

“You try if you think you can do so much better!” He holds the balloon out, soaked at the tip.

“No, it’s covered in your gross spit.”

“Well, if you can’t do it then fine.” Hinata rolls his eyes, about to try blowing it up again before Kageyama snatches it out of his hands.

“You’re such a dumbass.” He takes each side of the balloon in his hands and stretches it.  “You have to pull at it first, like this. It makes it easier.”  He puts the tip between his lips, the coolness of Hinata’s spit only vaguely disgusting.  He blows up the balloon with no problem, glancing back up at Hinata and raising his eyebrows mockingly.

He feels like he’s won until Hinata starts to smirk.

“Is that your blowjob face?”

Kageyama’s jaw drops and the balloon escapes from his mouth, whizzing into the air with a shrieking noise and flying around them wildly as Hinata doubles over laughing.  He has his head on the table, giggling into the tablecloth at Kageyama’s obviously discomfort.  His face is as red from laughing as Kageyama’s is red from embarrassment.

“What the fuck?” Kageyama finally blurts, glaring down at Hinata who just smiles back up at him with all of the innocence of Satan.

“Can you two _please_ stop goofing around and help out?”  Hitoka runs up to them, frantically pulling at her blonde hair.  “We only have fifteen minutes until people start showing up and there’s still not enough balloons and Kuroo’s not even here with—”

“Hey hey hey!”

She closes her eyes, sighs, and whirls around to Bokuto and Kuroo standing in the doorway, Kuroo with a laptop bag slung over his shoulder and a smirk on his face.

“I made the _best_ playlist, you guys” Kuroo responds to the girl’s annoyed face.

“Yeah, he finished it like five minutes ago,” Bokuto adds in.

Kuroo rolls his eyes.  “What can I say, I’m a perfectionist.”  

“Just—Just go set up!”  

Kuroo salutes.  “Yes, Captain!”  He waves over at Kageyama and Hinata, Kageyama trying to blow up his second balloon for the night.  “Hey, you two.” He slaps Kageyama on the back, his lip curling. “Wow Kageyama, is that your blow job face?”

Kageyama is absolutely going to lose it.  He finishes blowing up the balloon with an angry glare up at Kuroo as Hinata bursts out laughing again.  He’s pretty sure he can even see tears forming at the corners of Hinata’s eyes.

“I hate all of you,” Kageyama grumbles, tying off the balloon and throwing it on the floor.

“Don’t— Don’t look so grumpy,” Hinata gets out between laughs.  He places his hands on either side of Kageyama’s face, poking his fingers at each corner of his lips and pulling them up slightly. “You should smile more, Kageyama.”

 _Warm_ , Kageyama thinks.  Hinata’s palms are warm on his skin, fingertips barely brushing against his cheekbones, and Kageyama forgets all of the words in the Japanese dictionary except one: _Warm_. He stares at Hinata who’s still playing with the tilt of his mouth trying to get him to smile, and thinks that he wouldn’t mind Hinata’s hands on his face as they’re kissing in his bed, smoothing out the angry lines on his face with his fingertips.  It would be morning and Hinata’s hair would be a mess, and he’d be smiling like he was happy just to be there with him...

Kuroo coughs.  “ _Wow_ , well I’ll leave you two alone.”  He winks before turning and joining Bokuto, whose hands haven’t left his phone since walking into the room, texting away rapidly with his tongue stuck beneath his teeth.

Hinata quickly removes his hands.  “Sorry,” he breathes, cracking a small apologetic grin.  “We should probably finish these.”

They finish blowing up the balloons without any more jokes, Kuroo and Bokuto manage to figure out the speaker system, and Kiyoko reassures Hitoka off to the side that everything is going to turn out fine.  People begin to filter in, some in couples and others in groups, some Kageyama’s seen from GSA or Kuroo’s parties, some he doesn’t recognize at all.  Some kind of pop music starts playing and the noise from the speakers and everyone’s conversations begin to fill the room, cancelling out the original awkwardness when people first filed in.  

Hinata stares down at his fingers.  

“Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous.”

Kageyama raises an eyebrow, and Hinata sighs.

“I just want everyone to have a good time,” he mumbles.

“Well, Kuroo definitely is.” Kageyama eyes the tall boy across the room, dressed in a tight collared shirt and tighter jeans, spinning Bokuto around on the dancefloor.  

“I think he’s been drinking,” Hinata says, turning to look at the pair, and unable to keep a small laugh from forming at the sight of them.

He watches Hinata’s smile fade into a straight line, and remembers what Suga had told him several days ago:   _Act like it’s a date.  Be nice._  And it’s so much easier said than done with Hinata right in front of him, there legs almost touching beneath the table, but he breathes in, looks at the ceiling, and asks if Hinata wants anything to drink like it’s their fucking high school prom or something, and he didn’t even _go_ to his high school prom.

“What? Oh— Yeah, I guess.  Coke.”

“Okay.”

He gets up awkwardly and makes his way over to the table along the wall, weaving in and out of the people wrapped up in their own conversations.  He just finishes pouring Hinata’s drink and begins to pour his own when there’s a hand on his shoulder and he’s spinning around to see whoever wants his attention.

“So Kageyama,” Tanaka starts, eyeing the two drinks in Kageyama’s hands.  “Have you sealed the deal with Hinata yet?”

“What are you talking about?”

There’s a laugh and Nishinoya pops up from somewhere behind Tanaka.  “Yeah, everyone’s been talking about it.  I think there’s a bet going on!”

_“What?”_

“You really don’t know?”

“No, please enlighten me,” Kageyama deadpans, setting the drinks down behind him for fear of dropping them with how much his hands have started to shake.

Tanaka shifts his gaze away.  “Well, you two have been practically inseparable since January…”

“That’s not—”

“Yeah, and Hinata talks about you all the time,” Nishinoya cuts in.  “I don’t think he even realizes it.”

“We’re just friends,” Kageyama says, but it comes out quiet and Tanaka and Nishinoya roll their eyes in synch.

Tanaka pats him on the arm.  “Yeah, well you better go get that drink to your ‘just friend’.” He laughs, turning around to face Hinata.  “He looks thirsty.”

“Yeah, really thirsty, if you get what we mean.”  Nishinoya winks.

Kageyama makes a disgusted noise and shoulders past them with the drinks in hand.  

_Impossible._

_They’re just being stupid._

_Were people really taking bets?_

Hinata beams up at him as he hands him his drink, and Kageyama struggles not to smile.  

He notices more people have started to make their way to the dancefloor with wide grins and flushed faces. Kageyama watches as they drag their dates behind them, trying to avoid the way Hinata scoots in closer to him and leans his elbows on the table.  

“Aren’t you gonna dance?” Hinata asks.

“Why would I do that?”

Hinata shrugs.  “I don’t know, Kageyama, maybe because that’s what you do at dances.”

“Shut up.”  He rolls his eyes.  “I don’t even know how to dance.  I don’t think I’ve ever even been to a dance in my life.”

“No prom?”

Kageyama shakes his head, then rests his chin in his palm, feeling heavy.

“Me either!”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he laughs.  “No one asked me so…” His eyes drift to the table as his voice goes quiet, and Kageyama’s fists involuntarily clench.

“Well, they’re stupid,” Kageyama spits out, his heart beating faster.

Hinata’s mouth drops open, and Kageyama can feel his neck warm.  Maybe he shouldn’t have said that, but it’s true.  You’d have to be an idiot not to ask someone like Hinata.

“What do you mean?” Hinata asks, his eyes wide.

Kageyama’s heart drops into his stomach as he works hard to come up with an answer, but his tongue feels thick in his mouth and he swears he can see a spark in Hinata’s eye that’s making it very difficult to think.  He catches a tall and lanky figure making their way to them in the corner of his eye, and thanks God for being lucky for once in his life as Lev interrupts their conversation and throws an arm around Hinata’s shoulders.

“Hey guys,” Lev smiles and Hinata wrinkles his nose.

“You’ve been drinking?”

“Kuroo brought it!” Lev answers enthusiastically, curling his arm around Hinata tighter.  “Do you guys want some?”

“Oh God,” Hinata mutters into his hands as he buries his face into them.  “I’m going to be in so much shit if anyone finds out you guys brought alcohol on campus.”

“Shhh,” Lev puts a finger over Hinata’s mouth.  “You worry too much, no one will find out.  So do you want some or not?”

“I think we’re going to hold out for Kuroo’s party.”  Hinata looks over at Kageyama and grins.  “I don’t want Kageyama to pass out before we even leave the dance.”

“Shut up, I’m not that bad!”

Hinata rolls his eyes as if to say “yeah you are” and Lev looks between them before straightening up and tugging on Hinata’s arm.

“Then come dance!”

“What?”  

“Dance!  You’ve been sitting there the whole time, come dance with me.”  Lev pouts.  “Please, come on.”

“I…”  Hinata glances over at Kageyama.

He blinks, watching Lev pull Hinata out of his seat, his hand around his wrist. The heaviness is back in Kageyama’s chest, holding him down in his chair and stopping any words from forming.  He raises his eyebrows, tries to tell Hinata to “go ahead” without actually saying anything, and Hinata looks between Lev and Kageyama twice more before turning away completely.

“...Okay,” Hinata agrees.

Kageyama watches Lev drag him off into the group of people that now occupy the dance floor.  He sighs as the look of shock on Hinata’s face turns into a small grin, and he wants to throw up because that grin isn’t directed at him.  They fit themselves between Nishinoya and Tanaka, and a group of girls dancing in a huddle.  He’s glad he can barely see them, hidden behind other bodies, because his head is already throbbing and his short fingernails are already painfully digging into his palms.  He knows he’s only here as Hinata’s friend. It’s not like it’s a date, he shouldn’t be surprised, he shouldn’t be _angry._  Hinata can do whatever he wants—  Even if that means dancing with an abnormally tall guy at his stupid gay dance.  

He can just see the top of Hinata’s head, the peak of orange behind the crowd.  But Lev is almost in full view, drinking from a water bottle that’s definitely not filled with water, and Hinata’s arms are reaching up to hang around Lev’s neck, and he’s not sure how much of this he can take.  He fidgets in his chair, his suit beginning to feel uncomfortable, and he just wants to escape. If Hinata’s having a good time without him, then there’s really no point in him being there, anyway.

No one notices him get up.  No one notices him walk out.  The air in hallway is cooler, the music fading away, and Kageyama lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.  He quickly walks through the twisting hallways, just needing to be outside, away from Hinata, from Lev, from everything.  A few minutes is all he needs, just a few minutes to regain his composure so he can keep pretending through the rest of the night that Hinata doesn’t have the power to make his knees weak.

He turns a corner sharply, so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost passes them, but the groan makes him turn and suddenly he’s frozen with his face getting redder by the second.

“Uh, hello,” Bokuto says out of breath, an awkward grin on his face as Akaashi pulls his lips away from Bokuto’s neck.

Akaashi turns around from where he has Bokuto practically pinned up against the wall, and stares holes into Kageyama’s head.  “Hey.”

His feet won’t move, and he probably resembles a deer in headlights as he stares back at the pair of them with nothing to say.  Bokuto’s hands are gripped in Akaashi’s shirt, and his usually spiked back hair is messy and falling over his face.  

“...So you two?”  

“Yeah,” Akaashi says flatly, his lips noticeably swollen.

Kageyama swallows.  “Right.  Well, I’ll just go.”  He starts to walk away. “Uhm, congratulations,” he mumbles out as he passes.  

Bokuto laughs, and Kageyama walks away faster, sighing relief when he turns another corner and they disappear from sight.  The weird mix of embarrassment and jealousy makes him nauseous. He pushes through the double doors with his eyes closed and teeth biting into his lip, and lets himself collapse onto the concrete steps, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing his face into his hands with the idea of perpetual loneliness closing in on him.

The thought of being with someone used to be something so trivial, something he didn’t have the slightest interest in.  All of those years in high school were spent thinking he would find some girl later on.  He didn’t care about being in a relationship.  He didn’t see what was so special about all of those things his classmates had talked about with such reverence.  It was stupid, unnecessary, a hassle more than anything.

But then a stupid, idiot named Hinata Shouyou had to go and ruin everything.  Hinata took root somewhere deep inside Kageyama when they first met, and before he realized it, he’d been invaded by him.  Every thought was Hinata, every movement and body placement was aware of HInata; the hairs on his neck standing on end every time the other boy got too close.   

It’s like he’s finally experiencing everything he should have felt in high school, but he’s experiencing all of it at once and it’s so much.  It’s just so much.  He feels like exploding off like a bottle rocket.  

He never knew what is was like to _ache_ for someone until now.  And it feels dramatic, it feels stupid, but it doesn’t lessen the tightening in his chest as he thinks of how much fun Hinata is probably having back inside without him.  Kageyama stares at his knees and remembers what it was like before Hinata ran into his life, back when he was alone and was perfectly okay with that.

Well, Loneliness is a fucker, and Kageyama is sick of being used to it.  

He’s sick of waiting.  He’s sick of being the only one of his friends without any experience, without knowing what it’s like to have someone press their lips against his cheek.  He hates not knowing.  He hates that everyone has someone except for him.  He’s so tired.

He’s so, so tired.

He just wants to know.

There’s a noise from behind him, the creak of a door opening, and he straightens himself up from where he’d been doubled over, assuming Bokuto and Akaashi had finally decided to take things to a bedroom instead of the middle of a hallway.

“Kageyama?”

_Shit._

He doesn’t answer, just looks at his feet when the familiar boy sits down beside him.  He doesn’t have to glance over to know Hinata has that worried look on his face with his eyes big and mouth in a slight pout.  

“Bokuto and Akaashi were really going at it, huh?”  Hinata laughs quietly, his expression still concerned even though he tries to hide it.  

Kageyama shrugs, and Hinata goes quiet.  They sit in silence for a moment as Hinata seems to struggle for words, glancing between Kageyama and the concrete steps every few seconds.

“Uhm, are you okay?” he asks suddenly, softer.  “Did I do something wrong?  Are you mad at me?  Kageyama—”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Kageyama snaps, finally looking up.

Hinata flinches, but recovers in a second and throws him a glare.  “Obviously something is wrong!  Tell me what I did!”

“I just wanted to get some air, okay?  It’s too hot in there.”  Kageyama breathes, trying to calm down.  “Now will you stop— _Ow.”_

Hinata brings back his fist from where he’s just punched Kageyama in the shoulder, cradling it in his other hand.  “I can tell you’re lying,” he huffs.

Kageyama stares. “You’re impossible,” he mutters defeatedly, rolling his eyes up to the sky and keeping them there.  

It’s clear tonight, the moon lighting up Hinata’s angry face.  He listens to the frogs croaking, the humming of a thousand bugs they can’t see, and he can’t believe it’s already Spring. The days of snow are gone, of ice on sidewalks, and slipping into strangers.

Hinata keeps his eyes on him and Kageyama keeps his eyes on the sky.  His fingers twitch where they rest on his knees, and he breathes through his nose in a futile attempt to keep his heart rate under control because everything he wants to say is on the tip of his tongue and Hinata keeps looking at him like he expects him to say something.

“Kageyama.” Hinata hesitates. “You’re my best friend, okay?  You can tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why do you even hang around me, Hinata?”

_Fuck, that is definitely not what he wanted to say._

“Huh?”

“Everyone thinks I’m mean or boring or intimidating or— or—” He flails his hands around, “—or angry!  Is there a _reason_ you’ve hung around so long?  Do you feel obligated to be my friend or something,” he laughs bitterly, “because let me tell you, I’ve gotten along perfectly fine by myself for a long—”

“None of that’s true,” Hinata whispers so quietly, Kageyama can barely hear it over the tree frogs.  “You’re not mean.  You pretend to be, but you always give in and buy me meat buns.  You walk with me to class on Mondays and Wednesdays and let me borrow your scarf when it’s cold out.”  Hinata tugs at the scarf around his neck.  “And you’re not boring.  You’re just a lightweight.”  He cracks a small grins and shifts closer.  Kageyama holds his breath.  “You were intimidating, but then you threw up in front of me and I think you got a lot less intimidating after that.”

Kageyama tries to glare at him, but it’s hard when Hinata’s face is _right there_ , and his eyelids are feeling heavier by the second.

“You get angry sometimes,” Hinata continues, soft again.  He reaches a hand up and places two fingers between Kageyama’s eyebrows, smoothing out the lines where they scrunch together.  “But most of the time you’re just...you.”  Hinata pulls away, looking embarrassed.  “You’re just Kageyama.  And I—” he sighs, staring at his fingers now in his lap. “ I like you the way you are.”

Kageyama’s mind flashes back to cold air and video games, a bottle of tequila and Hinata pressed against his side radiating warmth. _You’re just Kageyama._

He feels light.

Drunk.

Hinata’s close enough to feel his breath, and Kageyama burns where their knees touch. He watches him lick his bottom lip, wants to lean into the other boy and feel what those lips are like against his mouth.  He almost does.

But he doesn’t have to.

It takes him a moment to grasp what is actually happening; that Hinata’s actual lips are on _his_ actual lips and they kind of move against his for moment before pulling away slow and hesitant.  And he’s confused, he's so confused, wonders if it was an accident or if it was just one of Hinata’s impulsive decisions that doesn’t actually mean anything.  He stays frozen as the small, cautious smile on Hinata’s face wavers, and he wants to reach out, but his fingers are stuck to where they rest on the concrete.  Hinata begins to pull away even further.

“Sorry,” he breathes.  

Kageyama stares dumbly, his mouth tingling.  “What are you apologizing for?”

“You’re not...mad that I kissed you?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Kageyama brings a hand up to his still tingling lips.  “That was my first kiss.”

“Mine too.”

Their breathing sounds heavy in the air, and Kageyama wouldn’t be surprised if Hinata could hear his heartbeat from where he’s sitting. It bangs in his chest annoyingly, making the blood rush to his head, flushing his neck and cheeks red.  First kisses are kind of like rollercoasters. A really, _really_ good rollercoaster that he wants to do over and over again until he’s sick.

“Can we do that again?”

Hinata just nods before pressing into him once more.

It’s more confident this time, Hinata’s hands finding their way to grip the bottom of Kageyama shirt.  He doesn’t have to think when he places his own hand on Hinata’s cheek, feeling how warm it is against his palm.  Hinata inches closer, and Kageyama melts into him; melts at the way their lips move experimentally against each others; melts at the fingers that brush the skin on his stomach when his shirt barely rides up.  

It’s Spring, and the ice has thawed.

“Hinata,” he breathes between kisses, and Hinata responds by kissing him harder.

The hand that’s not holding Hinata’s face presses painfully into the concrete steps, but he can’t bring himself to care. He runs his thumb over Hinata’s cheekbone as if he were running it over something fragile, something that could disappear any second, and Hinata licks his tongue across Kageyama’s bottom lip, pulling a noise from him that is definitely embarrassing, but only seems to fuel the confidence in Hinata’s movements.

It’s a little awkward. Wet.  New.  Everything is always new with Hinata, always surprising him in little ways, making him do things he’d never expected (like kissing a boy on the concrete steps of a school building.)  Hinata’s hands fumble up his arms as he tries to pull Kageyama in closer, and Kageyama suddenly remembers that human beings need to breath.

“You okay?” Hinata laughs quietly, fingers now pressed to the back of Kageyama’s neck, face close enough that their foreheads touch.

Kageyama nods slightly, catching his breath.  “You— I— You like me?” He stumbles out.

“Yeah.”  Hinata swallows. “I like you, you idiot.”

It’s impossible for Kageyama to hold down a grin.  

“You like me too, right?” Hinata asks, sounding a little panicked, and Kageyama just grins even wider.

“I guess you’re alright.”

“Shut up!”

But Hinata’s smiling, too, punching Kageyama lightly in the chest as he laughs and laughs, and his eyes light up bright enough to rival the moon above them. It all makes his stomach squirm tightly, but not particularly in a bad way, comparable to eating too much candy when he was a little kid.  He feels high, giddy, and sick all at once, and it’s doing terrible things to his brain like making him lean in and kiss Hinata’s cheek.  

Hinata wraps his arms around Kageyama’s neck and holds him close to his chest.  

“Let’s skip Kuroo’s party,” he whispers against Kageyama’s skin, smiling slightly into his neck.

Kageyama’s body stills.  “What?”

“I mean,” he says, voice obviously less sure than before as he loosens his grip around Kageyama. “If you wanted,” he breathes, “we could go back to my dorm.  Kenma said he’s staying at Kuroo’s tonight.”

“I…”  Kageyama looks from Hinata’s mouth to his eyes, and everything is moving fast and his body feels on fire, but he wants Hinata closer. He wants this.  “Okay.”

“Okay,” Hinata repeats quietly in the small space between them.  He closes the distance and kisses Kageyama quick and light before laughing and grabbing onto Kageyama’s arm, pulling him up from the steps.  “Come on.”

* * *

 

Kageyama squints at him.  “Are you wearing boxers with cartoons on them? What the hell, Hinata?

Just before Hinata turns off the lights, he shoots him a glare.  “I can wear whatever boxers I want, leave me alone.”

"I can’t take you seriously in those.”

“Then take them off!”

Kageyama stares.  He can’t really argue with that.

Hinata shuffles over to his bed that Kageyama’s already seated awkwardly at the edge of, and Kageyama wishes this stuff were easier like in the movies.  On the walk over to Hinata’s dorm, he entertained thoughts of kissing Hinata up against the door, Hinata fumbling with his keys until they both fall into the room, and scrambling over to the bed as they tear at each other’s clothes.

Kageyama soon realized it doesn’t exactly work that way.

There had been people walking outside the dorms for God knows why and Kageyama had lost his nerve to kiss him, Hinata had to search every one of his pants and coat’s pockets before finally finding his key, and when they _had_ finally made it inside, they argued about whether the lights should be on or off or a good five minutes until Hinata made an executive decision while shrugging out of his jacket and taking off his pants.

Hinata positions himself between Kageyama’s legs, and Kageyama just keeps looking at him dumbly because suddenly he has no idea what to do with his hands.  He wonders if it’s  normal to not know how your hands work, to forget they’re even there.  But Hinata reaches for them before he can think too much about it, taking them into his own and placing them at his waist before bringing his own hands up to Kageyama’s shoulders and kissing him lightly on the cheek.  Kageyama blinks.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Kagayama says, not really sure why out of everything, _that_ is what decided to come out of his mouth.  He guesses he felt like it was important.

“Me either,” Hinata answers, but he’s smiling, climbing up onto Kageyama’s lap and placing his knees on either side of his hips.  “But that’s okay.”

He kisses Kageyama as if he’d done it hundreds of times before, not wasting any time, and pushing at Kageyama’s mouth with his tongue.  

Kageyama closes his eyes and tries to relax, but his arms feel stiff and back feels tight, completely in contrast to Hinata who is warm and pliant against him.  Hinata grinds down in his lap and Kageyama nearly chokes at the sensation, fingers gripping into Hinata’s shirt tighter.

Hinata breaks off from the kiss, his eyes glazed.  “Whoa.”

“Yeah,” he breathes.

They still for a moment, both taking each other in like they can’t believe what’s happening, until eventually Hinata presses a hand to Kageyama’s chest, slowly leaning him down onto the small bed and crawling over him with a determined look set across his features.

“You look like you’re about to puke,” Hinata observes, unwrinkling Kageyama’s eyebrows with his fingertips.  “Are you okay?  We don’t have to do this if you don’t want—”

“No! I mean, yes, yes, I’m okay. I want,” he swallows, “I want to do this.”  He places his hands on either side of Hinata’s face as if to prove a point, bringing him down to kiss. His hands travel up to Hinata’s hair and bury themselves there as their pace quickens and Hinata begins to shift on top of him.  

He grinds down again and Kageyama gasps into his mouth, his mind swimming and skin igniting at every point Hinata touches him.  He’s vaguely aware of a hand slowly undoing every button of his dress shirt, and everything is too much and not enough, and pretty soon he’s helping Hinata shrug the shirt off and then reaching for Hinata’s own with shaky hands.  

Hinata is perfect.  

He slides the shirt from Hinata’s shoulders, noticing for the first time the toned muscles up his stomach, the freckles that dot sporadically across his skin. And _yeah_ , he thinks, he’s _definitely gay_.  

“You’re staring.”

Kageyama looks up from where his eyes are trained on Hinata’s chest, and there’s a flutter in his ribcage as he realizes that Hinata is definitely blushing.  “I’m really glad you spilled coffee on me,” he says simply before his mouth is on Hinata’s flushed neck, licking and biting into his skin.  He closes his eyes and tries not to think about what he’s doing, the fact that he actually has no _idea_ what he’s doing, and focuses on the way Hinata’s breathing turns erratic above him, the jerk in Hinata’s hips as he moves his lips over to leave another mark.

It’s fucking addicting. He wants to stay like this forever, pressed up against Hinata in the dark, listening to the small noises that escape his mouth. Hinata’s hand travels down to his crotch and Kageyama presses up against it, embarrassed by how eager he must look, but Hinata just laughs softly into his hair while he undoes the top button of his pants.

“Kageyama,” he says like a question, pulling his pants down to his knees.  “You really like me? Like… _Like_ me, like me?”

Kageyama stares.  “I thought we established that.”  He looks between the two of them, each half-naked on Hinata’s bed.

He grins, but it fades fast as he sits back on Kageyama’s hips.  “I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be.”

His eyes are focused on the space where Hinata sits upon his hips, and if there is one thing he’s sure of, it’s that there’s no other place he’d rather be in this moment.

“You’re loud, and obnoxious, and _ridiculous_ sometimes.”  He swallows. “But there’s other things—things I like about you… a lot of things.”

Hinata doesn’t say anything, eyes wide and staring down at Kageyama’s chest like he’s wondering if Kageyama will continue.

“I like your hair,” he blurts, feeling the heat rise in his face.

“My hair?” Hinata laughs, finally looking Kageyama in the eye.  “Shut up.”

“I’m serious.  It’s a mess, but I like it.  I like that it doesn’t lay flat. It’s not boring like mine.”  He bites his lip, but continues.  “And I like—uhm— I like the way you smile.”

Hinata’s mouth gets wobbly like he’s trying to stop himself from doing exactly that, and  Kageyama notices for the first time that Hinata’s blush extends to his chest.

“You smile so easily and big, and _warm_?”  

“Warm?” Hinata asks quietly.

“Yeah,” he breathes.  “Maybe that’s weird, sorry—”

Hinata shakes his head.  “What else?”

It feels like something in the air has changed as Hinata’s eyes turn from shy to eager, and Kageyama has to breathe for a moment, get used to the electricity that now seems to surround them, before placing a hand up against Hinata’s ribcage.

“I like this.”  He lets his palm run over his lightly toned abdomen, and hesitantly slides his hand up against Hinata’s nipple, watching him suck in a breath at the touch.

He sinks into him, letting Kageyama guide him down onto the bed.  Kageyama rolls himself onto Hinata’s chest, forehead pressed against the other boys, and feels the heat emanating from both of their bodies, Hinata hard beneath him.

“And this,” he says, a little bolder, pressing his mouth against Hinata’s.

Two hands find their way to his cheeks, holding him there against him before making their way up to Kageyama’s hair, and he tries to find breaths between Hinata’s insistent lips, but it’s harder than it sounds when Hinata is doing this amazing thing with his tongue that Kageyama didn’t even think was possible. It’s easy to get lost in the tingling up his spine, in the heat pooling in his stomach.  They move against each other like waves rolling onto shore, hard, constant, and Kageyama can feel every inch of composure he has left coming undone.

Hinata slides his lips off of Kageyama’s, kissing his chin, the underside of his jaw, just below his ear, before burying his head in the crook of Kageyama’s neck, breath hot and sticky against his skin, rolling his hips up to meet Kageyama’s. He buries his face into Hinata’s hair, mumbling nonsensically things he’d probably be embarrassed about if he weren’t about to literally combust into flames.  

“Shouyou?”  

“Hmmm?” he half whines, and Kageyama has to bite down hard on his lip not to reply with a moan.

He knows it’s going to be over soon.  Time passes too quickly, and everything seems to filter through his head at once; thoughts, memories, emotions; flooding him up to his throat.  There’s elation and happiness, but also the nervousnessness and a fear of what comes after.  What will Hinata say when it’s all over; when the rush reaches its peak and suddenly they’re  just two boys spent on a cheap twin mattress?  

“You’re staying, right?” Kageyama mumbles into his Hinata’s hair.  “You’ll stay?”

“You’re so—” he breaks off, panting, “—stupid.”  Hinata kisses him on the neck, thrusting his hips up in a motion that has Kageyama shutting his eyes and opening his mouth in a silent moan.

Kageyama’s legs tremble. He can feel Hinata guiding his face back down to meet his own, both thumbs rubbing at his cheekbones steadily as Kageyama lets go.  

“I’m here,” Hinata says, a little shakily, their foreheads pressed together.  “I’m not going anywhere, Tobio.”

And for once in his life, Kageyama believes those words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tequila Rose strawberry tequila is a very real thing and all of you should love yourselves and never try it because it's actually the Worst and Hinata has terrible taste apparently.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe there's only one chapter left for me to post!! Thank you guys for all of your continued support! I really loved writing this chapter, and know many of you have been looking forward to it, so I hope it doesn't disappoint.

The apartment is filled wall to fucking wall, people crowded in the kitchen around various bottles of alcohol or sprawled on the floor with red plastic cups in hand; laughing, kissing, _borderline-having-sex-on-the-couch._

“Bokuto!” Kuroo yells over the music.  “C’mon, take it to the bedroom, man.”

Bokuto looks up from where he has Akaashi beneath him and pouts.  

“I expected it from you, but Akaashi, for one I am _shocked_.”  Kuroo puts a hand to his heart, mouth open wide in mock-disappointment.  “Now get the fuck off my couch, you lovebirds,” he adds, kicking them lightly with his toes.

Bokuto surprisingly complies, rolling off of Akaashi and eagerly taking his hand to lead him into the back bedroom.  Akaashi follows in a daze, a little mark already appearing above his collarbone.

“Wear a condom!” he calls after them in synch with the bedroom door slamming.

Kuroo falls into the recently vacated couch, rubbing a hand over his face.  He’s not nearly drunk enough yet and all of the people in the room feel suffocating. Bokuto’s too busy with Akaashi to distract him, and Kenma’s been MIA for the entire night even though he _promised_ he’d be here. It’s looking more and more like he’ll be drinking his sorrows tonight in whatever bottle of alcohol he happens to pick up first.

He still hasn’t gotten an answer from Kenma, and he’s starting to feel a little bit stupid for asking him to move in, in the first place.  He shouldn’t have assumed that Kenma would want to just because they’re best friends.  He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, he knows that, and yet he did because he’s an idiot with a big, stupid crush on his childhood friend.

He’s thinking it’s a vodka and coke kind of night.

It’s difficult, but he hauls his lazy, pathetic ass off the couch intending to sulk his way through the throngs of people to pour himself a drink.  He makes it to the kitchen counter when there’s a tug on his sleeve, and he’s expecting it to be some guy he really doesn’t want to see; maybe a hookup from two months ago or someone else looking to get their dick sucked, but there’s the familiar blonde hair and dark roots, and big eyes stare up at him as his hand around the bottle of vodka freezes.

“You’re here.”

“I said I’d come,” Kenma says simply, letting go of his sleeve and burying his hands into his pockets.

Kuroo’s mouth feels dry.  “Do you want a drink?”

Kenma considers the bottle in Kuroo’s hand for a moment before shrugging.  “Sure.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Vodka?”

“Sure.”

The bottle in his hand feels heavier than it should as he pours them both drinks; coke for himself and orange juice for Kenma, just the way he likes it on the rare occasions he does decide to drink.

“Cheers,” Kuroo says, raising his cup to Kenma’s.

Their eyes lock when they take their first sip from the plastic cups, and Kuroo feels like he’s somewhere far, far away from the people that surround them, like he and Kenma are suddenly the only two people in the room, and it’s terrifying if he’s honest with himself. Kenma’s eyes are big and golden like the moon hanging outside the window behind him, drawing Kuroo in like moths to a light in the dark.

“Where’s Bokuto?” Kenma asks.

“Sucking Akaashi’s dick probably.”

And that’s it, the moment is gone. Kenma blinks and Kuroo curses himself for his quick mouth and shitty way with words.

“They’re together?”

“Yeah, finally.”  Kuroo takes a big swallow from his cup, trying to drown out his idiot mouth from saying anything stupid.

Kenma just nods, starting to make his way to the couch, and Kuroo follows with a nervous energy flooding through him that only Kenma was ever able to create.

Something is different tonight. He could feel it the second Kenma pulled at his sleeve, only solidified when Kenma didn’t refuse a drink, and he isn’t sure if it’s a good kind of different or a bad kind of different, but he takes his seat next to Kenma cautiously just in case it’s the latter.  

Kenma drinks and stares into his cup.  

“What’s up?” Kuroo asks, because it’s obvious Kenma is wearing the expression he always gets just on the edge of saying something.  Kuroo takes a gulp of his own drink before setting it aside on the table and waits.

A few seconds pass before Kenma finally looks up.  “I made a decision.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll move in with you.”  Kenma pauses.  “If that’s still something you’re thinking about, I mean.”

“Still something I’m thinking about?” Kuroo repeats, barely above a whisper before erupting into a giant grin.  “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

He instinctively reaches out for the other boy’s hair, loving the fluid way it runs through his hand, twirling the ends in his fingers.   _Kenma and him living together._

He’d thought about it since they were kids; imagining quiet days curled up playing video games, laughing into each other’s necks, the look on Kenma’s face when Kuroo would cook his favorite meals.  He likes the party scene, he loves his other best friend Bokuto, but he loves Kenma more as cheesy as that is.  He loves the moments they spend together, the easy way they revolve around each other.  Binge drinking is a fun time, but existing with Kenma is something he can see himself doing for a much longer time.  As long as Kenma will have him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Kenma asks, ears tinged pink, and Kuroo only now realizes that he’s been staring.

Kenma takes a sip of his drink, his eyes still trained on Kuroo and waiting for an answer that he isn’t sure how to give.  He bites the inside of his cheek and thinks maybe he should just fucking go for it already.

“I really fucking love you, you know that?” He breathes out. “Everything about you.”

Kenma stares.  “Is that your way of flirting with me?”  he teases, but there’s a nervous edge to his voice.  “How drunk are you?”

He isn’t sure what else to do, so he laughs.  “Kenma, by now you can tell when I’m drunk.”

Kenma’s lips press together in a narrow line. “Yeah, I know,” he says quietly, and Kuroo stops laughing because suddenly Kenma has this look in his eyes and they’re dead set on Kuroo’s own; a look that says he’s going to follow through with whatever it is that he’s thinking.

Kenma exhales steadily and lightly kisses the corner of Kuroo’s mouth, his eyelashes brushing his friend’s skin when they drift shut, and Kuroo feels like his whole body is suddenly weightless.  He lifts a hand up to his face, touching the ghost of the kiss with his fingertips, and stares blankly at the wall behind Kenma’s head with the feeling that he might actually begin to float away.

“You kissed me?” Kuroo says, and he knows he sounds like an idiot, but he doesn’t think he can really be blamed.

“I did,” Kenma confirms.

“Cool,” he breathes, exhaling heavily, “just making sure.”  

And this time he’s the one leaning in, letting his eyelids flutter shut when his lips finally meet Kenma’s full-on in a soft kiss, and it feels so natural, like it’s something he could do for the rest of his life and never get bored, like it’s something he should have done a long time ago. He lingers there for only a second before pulling away, feeling as though his stomach were being eaten away by monstrous butterflies.  

“Kuroo…”

Kenma’s hands press to each side of his face, and Kuroo stares back wide-eyed.

“Please keep doing that.”

Kuroo smiles small and shy like he only can with Kenma, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so so much for supporting me throughout posting this fic!! I love seeing people enjoy the fic after the hard work I put into it, and all of your comments have made me smile so much. There were many, many times I thought about not finishing it, but I'm glad I pushed through and was able to share this story with all of you. Again, thank you for your nice words, kudos, and bookmarks, I really really appreciate it. :) 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr (peppermintwind.tumblr.com) or twitter (@PeppermintWind) until I get through writing my next fic (lmao I already starting working on a really long iwaoi fic so we'll see how that goes, hahah!) I feel bad about posting such a short last chapter, but I really believed that this was the way to end it-- short and sweet! I hope it doesn't disappoint!

Spring Break is a wake-up call to casual homophobia over the dinner table and self-doubt.  It’s texting Shouyou at 3AM and spending as much time shut in his room as possible.  It’s realizing that he misses the color orange, feeling like the world has suddenly dimmed in brightness.  He feels like a plant without light, ice without the sun to melt it into water again.

He tells his parents about a boy he met this semester, this annoying guy in class who he guesses became his friend in the end, and he can tell his dad is happy he’s finally being sociable and his mom congratulates him for making a new friend.  He doesn’t tell them that he guesses this friend became more than that, too.  He doesn’t tell them about his golden eyes or enticing grin that makes his chest tighten.  He conveniently leaves it all out.  

And when his parents ask if Hinata-kun has a girlfriend, Kageyama only smiles the tiniest bit and replies, “no.”

It’s exhausting, it’s annoying, but a week goes by and soon he’s back on campus.  Shouyou messages him several excited texts to meet him near the coffee shop, and Kageyama grins like an idiot the entire way there.

Shouyou practically leaps at him when he turns the corner, grabbing at his hand, and not bothering to ask how his Spring Break was because he already knows.  He drags him into the familiar smell of Karasuno Coffee and Kageyama follows in a daze because apart of him still can’t believe that any of this is real.  Suga makes his usual, a knowing smirk on his face when he glances down at their joined hands, and Kageyama realizes that they’re all back where they started.  

He smiles silently into his coffee and Shouyou asks him teasingly what that stupid smile on his face is for.

“Nothing,” he replies, knowing the vague response will annoy the hell out of him.  

Shouyou just rolls his eyes because he’s used to Kageyama’s shit at this point.  “Whatever, asshole.”

“Dumbass,” he throws back, fondly, and there’s a kick to his shins under the table.

They look at each other and laugh; Kageyama quietly into his palm and Shouyou loud and big over the soft jazz playing on the coffee shop’s speakers. He isn’t sure why they both start laughing, except maybe it’s because they both can’t believe they’re here.

It’s not the easiest things could have gone.  There were times in the middle of the night that Kageyama wished he had fallen in love with a girl, that he hadn’t fallen in love with the first real friend he’d made at college.  He knows one day he’ll have to tell his parents, probably even let them down, and he’s not exactly looking forward to it.  It won’t be simple or easy, but the weight of Shouyou’s hand tells him it’ll at least be okay.  Because it’s worth it.

Shouyou’s worth it.

 

 


End file.
